The Dark Knight's Dragon
by Carnicirthial
Summary: Old greivances must be forgotten when The Joker takes what Dragon needs most: Her pride. Will Batman forget old woulds and help her strike back, or will his concern for Dragon's other face keep him from doing what's necessary? He never did learn...
1. Bruce and Carmine

Alright, here goes! I'm just getting this out of my system, and even though I have the whole story mapped out, unless I get reviews applenty I don't think I'll continue. Isn't that how I started my X-men fic? Oh well. Couple of notes: You can read this if you haven't seen Batman Begins, but you won't get some of the jokes. And just the same way that Gabriella in My Van Helsing fic is loosely based on Savitri, so is K.C., even though Savitri would never hire a man-whore. That said, dig in!

_**

* * *

**_

The Dark Knight's Dragon

"Ah, piss." Carm slammed her head against the dashboard – again. "Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss, Piss! Why am I stuck with the piece of crap, huh? 'Cause I'm too lazy!" Gotham's population of bums, drunks, hookers, and general night dwellers were startled from their sleep in the underground parking lot as Carm slammed her head against the horn this time.

A particularly sleazy looking bum sidled up to the beat-up land yacht that Carm had been driving. "Scuse me, miss, but I noticed yer car broke down, an' on such an awfully cold night, I figered that mebe ya might need a place to warm up while ya wait fer a tow ta show up." Carm looked the bum over, getting a sinking feeling that there was a hidden meaning behind "a place to warm up."

"First off, you son of hooker, it's day and seventy degrees out. Second, I hijacked this car so I don't give squat about what happens to it. And third, if anything unfortunate were to happen to me, some very unscrupulous characters would be more than happy to teach you how to swim with cement shoes on." Carm packed up anything she might actually need from the glove compartment (quite a bit, because that actually was her car), shoved it into her backpack that served as a purse, and made a point of crawling out the door that the bum wasn't in front of.

"Listen lady –" was about all he got out before Carm bodily hurled him over the roof of the car. Before he could get up she made two swift chops at the base of his neck, just enough make him black out, and shoved him under the car. Most the witnesses there didn't notice or care due to being drunk or in the throes of a hangover, and anyone who might have cared didn't really want cross paths with the dame that just emancipated their leader of his awareness of his surroundings.

Gotham was a dismal place, even when the sun was shining in the over-polluted sky. No part of what was once a futuristic utopia was unscathed by crime. When kids were old enough, they didn't learn about "the birds and the bees" they learned about "the hookers and the clients." Nobody hadn't lost a family member to the unquenchable crime, and more than 75 of the city was involved in some sort of a gang. It seemed the only happy people were the ones making life a living hell for everyone else, i.e. the higher-ups at Wayne Industries. Granted, things weren't as bad as they used to be, but that still left them plenty south of mediocre. There was Batman's wave after wave of theatrically-crazed foes, more gangs than schools, Gerodi Valintino (Gotham's new crime boss), and now Carm had to mess with duel identities. True, she wasn't exactly a saint either way you knew her, but at least she was making a dent in Gotham, and a slightly sadistic part of her hoped she'd put a nice dent in Batman too.

Really, that show off in the black cape deserved to be knocked off his high horse. And the front page. Outside the parking complex, Carm wasted some spare change on a paper that displayed Batman – again. However, the headline for once wasn't about Batman, it was about Gotham's newest nighttime shadow.

_**Dragon Guessed to Give Crime a New Scare**_

_Gotham has been blessed – or cursed – with her very own Dark Knight. In legends, and Batman is most certainly a legend, a Knight's greatest foe was always a dragon. Now that Gotham has both a Knight and a Dragon, the question remains: Who will be vanquished? Is the Dragon a friend or a foe?_

It went on to talk about the Dragon's nighttime antics and arguments for whether she should be left in peace or taken care of, but Carm didn't care about any of that bull. The only important thing was that Batman was finally getting some healthy, long-deserved competition.

Carm folded up her paper and walked along until she found the nearest sign-waving freeloader. She didn't have to go far. "Hey, buster, I'll give you twenty bucks and my paper for your sign and a marker." He gladly accepted and several steps off Carm wrote in big bold letters, "WANTED: SOMEONE TO GIVE ME A RIDE. RAPISTS, MURDERERS, AND GENERAL CRIMINALS NEED NOT APPLY."

Bruce Wayne hated this part of town. It seemed every time he came down here something was thrown at him. Not that his Batsuit couldn't stop it, but dried egg was a nuisance to get off. Plus there were the free loaders. They were interesting to watch, as long as they didn't get too close. Alfred didn't like plowing them over, but whenever he was in the Batmobile he didn't mind making them scurry.

"Master Wayne, what do you think of this new Dragon person?" Alfred passed back a copy of that morning's news.

Bruce scanned the copy. "As long as she stays on my good side, I don't particularly care what she does." Not in the mood for conversation, Bruce continued to stare out the window. One woman just outside a parking complex didn't look like she fitted in here, neither did her sign, which read, "WANTED: SOMEONE TO GIVE ME A RIDE. RAPISTS, MURDERERS, AND GENERAL CRIMINALS NEED NOT APPLY."

"Alfred, pull over." Bruce was already stepping out of the car.

"Here, Master Wayne?" But Bruce wasn't there anymore.

"Excuse me miss, do you need a ride?"

Carm wondered at how obvious the statement was. "Way to spot the iceberg, Captain Obvious."

Her sarcasm and apparently not knowing who he was hit Bruce like a breath of fresh air, something very hard to come by in Gotham. "Would you like one?"

Boy, obviously loaded and dripping with sarcasm. She liked him already. "Well, I was sorta waiting for Prince Charming and his white horse, but I suppose Mr. Money and his Rolls Royce would work just fine."

Bruce gave a polite laugh and held the door open for her. Very unladylike, she slid over a seat so he wouldn't have to go around the car.

"Where to, miss?" Polite as ever, Alfred kept his surprise hidden.

"Wayne Tower, if it's not too much trouble." So she could be polite, she just wasn't very often.

Trying at conversation, Bruce asked, "Do you work there?"

"Nah, but I got some errands I need to run in that general vicinity and a friend who lives over there. Normally I'd take the monorail, but that damn Batman blew up my route."

Bruce raised his eyebrows and Alfred stifled a laugh. Trying for conversation again Bruce spoke up. "So, did you read this morning's paper?"

She nodded.

"What did you think?" She obviously didn't care for conversation.

"To express my opinion to its fullest I would have to be very rude, to say the least." Carm hoped that would shut him up.

It did, and the rest of the ride was silent. Alfred dropped her off at her desired spot and she left with a curt thank you.

Carm's errands were nonexistent, and "her friend's apartment" was actually the three room, four if you included the bathroom, "suite" that she and her best friend K.C shared. As she unlocked the door she noticed the rubber band around the handle. That meant, "Carm/K.C., I'm busy and don't you dare interrupt." Well, Carm was in no mood to cater to K.C.'s tumultuous relationships and barged in singing, "It's a small world after all."

"Carmine Alexia Lordly, I ought to bash your skull in!" K.C. looked up from the couch, and other than a few undone buttons she was thankfully still clothed.

Feinting innocence Carm exclaimed, "Oh, I'm sorry, was interrupting something? In that case, I'LL JUST SING LOUDER! IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL, IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL, IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL, IT'S A SMALL, SMALL WORLD!"

K.C. Jumped the couch and tackled Carm. It didn't quite work because at that moment Carm opened the fridge and instead of smashing into Carm, she smashed into the refrigerator door.

From the couch a deep, masculine voice asked, "Should I perhaps come back another time?"

Before K.C. could say anything Carm answered, "Yes, you should. In fact, don't come back at all." The man left in a hurry.

"I hate you." K.C. muttered, still face down on the floor.

"I know. Geeze, where do you pick those guys up? I swear, I'm not going to be surprised when I walk in and find you and Batman rolling around on the floor." A cackle told Carm that K.C. wouldn't be that surprised either – or depressed. "Sicko. The car broke down again."

"Where is it?"

"I hope rotting in a landfill. I think we just ought to buy a new one."

"Well, Miss I-can-tip-the-pizza-guy-a-twenty-but-I'm-too-cheap-to-buy-anything-with-my-money, I'm not gunna stop you. I'd like a BMW, but if you'd rather have a Ferrari I'll be fine."

"Nah, I was thinking of just getting a used car and having my brother take a look to see if anything is wrong with it."

Carm enjoyed the gurgle of despair. "So if the car's broken and the monorail is out, how'd you get home?"

"Some rich guy gave me a lift."

"That's kinda risky, hitchhiking in this city."

Carm laughed. "What, you don't think I can handle myself?"

"Well, just be careful. One day your going to run into more that even the Dragon can handle."

"Relax, mother. If I can survive tonight I can survive anything."

"Alfred, I swear that if I have to go to one more party ever again I'll personally shoot my brains out with my grappling gun."

Alfred opened the door for Bruce the way any good butler should. "One more can't kill you, Master Wayne."

Pretending to smile, Bruce pretended to like being at the party and pretended to laugh at all of the cheesy jokes told. Half an hour of listening to, "And then she said" and "And I said" and Bruce thought his brain would implode and dribble out his ears. Excusing himself on the pretense of hunting down another drink, he finally left the group of people he hated and pretended to love. The whole party was full of people like that, people who hated and envied each other but pretending to be the best of friends. Gossipers and backstabbers, the lot of them.

Except for one person. Next to the bar, looking righteously uncomfortable in her blue silk dress was the same lady he had given a ride to earlier that day. If she was rich enough to make it on the guest list, why had she been hitchhiking, and why in that part of town?

"Excuse me, but I never caught your name." He tapped politely on her shoulder.

She turned around, expecting to see another poser trying to get on her good side and saw instead perhaps the only decent person in the room. "I don't believe I dropped it, Mr.…"

"Bruce Wayne at your service." He gave a theatrical bow.

"Carmine Lordly; and before you say anything, yes Carmine is a man's name, and no, I never had a sex change surgery. My parents were just screwed up that way. I swear, my brother got so harassed for being named Alice Sue." Bruce was glad that when he laughed this time it wasn't forced.

"It could be worse. I can't for the life of me think how, but it could be worse."

"I can. I could be named Bruce." He rolled his eyes and before he knew it he was sitting next to her, avidly discussing the most inconsequential things. When it was time for dinner he was thrilled to find that he and Carm (as she had asked him to call her) were seated next to each other.

"To be honest, I can't stand these parties, but I go anyway, just so that they may leave me alone if I'm enough of a brute at the party."

Bruce nodded his agreement, wondering if he should try the green-mush that was some Asian delicacy. Carm had the answer for him. She took heaping spoonful of the goop and flicked it right in his face. Not to be outdone, he discreetly poured his ice water down the back of her dress. She retaliated flicking more muck onto his head. He smeared potatoes in her hair. She stuck a cucumber in his ear. They went on and on, unnoticed until both were completely unacceptable looking and an over-zealous spoonful of soup landed onto hostess's hair. Before they could be labeled as the culprits, both Carm and Bruce made for the exit, trying not to laugh and bolt until they were out of the dinning room.

"You," laughed Bruce, "are a menace to high society."

Carm shook salad out of her dress, picked up a tomato and chucked it at him in response. "I'm a menace to high society that needs a ride home."

Bruce more than gladly offered her one, and this time conversation was much livelier. When Alfred asked what had happened they just laughed harder.

When they had reached her building complex, Carm ventured, "I feel slightly guilty about putting a cucumber in your ear, so I suppose I'll invite you up for a moment or so."

Bruce grinned and followed her up the stairs. When they go to her door, Carm peeled another rubber band from the doorknob. She burst in singing at the top of her lungs again. "ONE IS THE LONLIEST NUMBER THAT YOU'LL EVER DOOOOOOOOOOO! TWOOOOOOOOOOOO CAN BE AS BAD AS ONE, IT'S THE LONILEST NUMBER SINCE THE NUMBER ONE!" She was silenced by a misaimed gunshot.

"CARM I SWEAR THAT NEXT TIME YOU DO THAT I'LL BEAT YOU SENSELESS AND TEACH YOU TO SKYDIVE WITHOUT A PARACHUTE!"

"K.C., where do you find these men? Wait, you're not hiring man-whores, are you!" Carm tipped over the cheap couch, man-whore and all.

"He's a not a man-whore, and if you don't leave I'll begin saying some very embarrassing things about you!" K.C. was shaking with rage.

"Like you sleep with a purple elephant named Trunks? Or your parents live right above us?"

"OUT!" Carm quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt and made a hasty retreat.

Bruce was laughing hysterically. "Good friends, huh?"

"Like sisters. Both our older siblings were lost to a gang fight, and we met at the funeral." Carm grabbed a gardening hose from the sidewalk and rinsed the potatoes out of her hair, "accidentally" spraying Bruce several times.

"So, since you have no where to go and had nothing to eat, I could offer you dinner." Bruce stole the hose and after rinsing himself off drenched Carm.

"You could, and I could accept." Carm shook her long brown hair out like a dog.

Next thing, she was in Bruce's car, and then in Bruce's mansion.

She whistled as he led her through the front door. "Nice crib! Is it just you who lives here?"

Bruce shrugged. "Me and Alfred. I'm not home much though, me being the party animal that I am."

She playfully socked his arm. "You look like a soggy salad, party animal."

"I've yet to thank you for that," Bruce smiled manically. "I'm going to go change into something less…"

"Green?" offered Carm.

"I was thinking fruity. Alfred will keep you comfortable until I come back down. I'll only be a minute." Bruce took off up the stairs and Carm followed Alfred into the kitchen, despite Alfred's protests that she'd like the parlor more.

* * *

REVIEW OR I'LL SET JENNIE AND ABBY ON YOU! AND MISTER TRUNKS! 


	2. The Knight's First Encounter

Wow, three reviews already! I say that's a record, but it isn't, even tho it makes me happy. Sorry, Savitri,K.C. don't get so much action in this chapie, but she's still got a major part coming. As for you other two... a little feeback would be nice. Tonight we have our first adult themes, so I'm glad I went with the T rating. Oh, props to anyone who saw Howl's Moving Castle.

* * *

The Knight's first encounter

True to his word, Bruce hastily changed into his customary attire of comfortable pants and a sweater to rush down the stairs, still trying to slick his hair back. He skid into the parlor, the strangely empty parlor. She wasn't in the library (thank goodness, odds-on she'd inadvertently bang the piano and find the Batcave), she wasn't in the dinning room, and she wasn't in the coat closet. Closing the coat closet, and completely unaware of why he was possessed to look in the coat closet, he heard Carm laughing in the kitchen. Warily (Batman is always wary) he peek his head around the corner to be greeted by a wet dish towel in the face.

"Tag, your it." Carm was dicing potatoes into a pot and the smell of chicken was wafting from the oven. Alfred seemed to be enjoying Carm's invasion of the kitchen, and was sitting back, retelling his favorite stories from working at Wayne Manor.

"And then, if that wasn't bad enough, -"

"Alfred, I don't think she wants to hear that," Bruce interjected, recognizing the potential for a very embarrassing story to be told.

He hefted himself onto the counter and watched in silence as Carm poured different ingredients into the potatoes. "Alfred, do you have any condensed milk?"

"Top shelf, Miss Lordly." Bruce leaned over across the counter and grabbed the can, putting his face temptingly close to Carm's.

Dear lord, he smelled good. Not like all the other rich boys, he smelled like soap and mint instead of fancy cologne that stunk of department stores. "Are you waiting for something?"

He grinned, loving her sarcasm even more. "A kiss might be nice."

She dropped the pot of potatoes in his lap. "Mash those and I'll kiss you after dinner." Alfred sighed with relief.

Dinner turned out to be superb, and food-fight-free. "Miss Lordly, where did you learn to cook like that?" Carm had insisted that Alfred eat with them.

"Grandma, cook books, boyfriends, and a good lot of experimentation." Carm began cleaning up the dishes, but Alfred shooed her away, insisting that was his job.

Out in the hall Carm checked her watch. "It's later than I realized."

Bruce checked his watch as well. "It's only ten."

"Well, Mr. Party Animal, I have the graveyard shift at work, and I need to get home and into my… working clothes." The hesitation was only a fraction of a second, but Bruce noticed it nonetheless.

"Alright, I'll drive you home." Bruce headed out the door but quickly turned around. "But it'll cost you another kiss."

Carm suppressed a giggle and opted for a smirk instead. "Are you really that desperate?"

Bruce gently held her elbow and guided her to the garage. "I do what I can." He flipped on the light switch to reveal several fancy sports cars.

Carm whistled. "What, no armored tank?"

Bruce smiled, thinking of the Batmobile. "Darn thing is such a gas guzzler that I don't drive it that much. Take your pick. Ferrari, Porsche, or Lamborghini?"

"Hmm, how about that one?" Carm pointed to an antique Ford Mustang, complete with drop-top.

"Hmm, it's a junker. It needs new tires, an engine, the axles should be replaced, and I don't think it has brake pads. I was just gunna sell it rather than fix it up," Bruce grimaced.

"How much? I need a new a car." Carm looked it over, trying to come off like she knew what she was doing.

Bruce could tell she didn't have a clue. "For you? How's five hundred dollars and a second date sound?"

Carm fell over she was so shocked. Peeking up from the backseat she asked, a little flustered, "Are you kidding! For that price I'll cook again!"

Bruce smiled wider than he already had been. "Deal. For the meantime though, let's take the Lamborghini."

* * *

K.C. was in a foul mood. Carm had scared away her date, and she was rapidly running out of men to seduce. She estimated that she'd dated – or at least made-out with – half of Gotham's male population. Carm, however, walked in on cloud nine. No surprise, she was always the looker of the two, what with being built with an hourglass figure and a face that looked like it came off a Victoria's Secret ad with just a little blush. Growing up she'd had long brown hair that even when braided fell well below her waist. As she got older, though, she chopped it all off and dyed it black and then hid the black mop under a brunette wig. K.C. had by far dated more men, but that was on sheer will power. K.C. was short and stout with a genetic roll of fat around her waist. The child of a Mexican and a Cherokee, she was dark skinned and thick haired. Beautiful in her own right, but not stunning, not like Carm.

"You've got some nerve," shouted K.C. as Carm changed in her bedroom. "Scaring my date away and then waltzing in here like you just came back from heaven."

Carm was supposed to respond with a cackle. She sighed instead. That could only mean one thing: there was a second date. "Not heaven, but Bruce certainly can kiss a girl."

"What!" That was so unlike Carm. "You kissed on the first date!"

"Twice, actually. He's giving me a car for five hundred dollars and we're going to see a movie next Friday an then back to his house." Before K.C. could question her further, Carm came out with the face-pastels. "You're better at it than me," she half pleaded.

"Alright," sighed K.C. "But when you get back I want a full report." She quickly but skillfully applied the make-up, making Carm's upper part of her face appear heavily tattooed

* * *

Batman was on the hunt tonight. He had a mind to find that Dragon girl and make sure she was in line. He instantly headed to the most popular area for crime, and patrolled the small space. It was amazing that under all the dirt and grime and haze that seemed to be the very essence of crime was hidden even more filth and corruptness. It was a well known fact that this was where Gerodi Valintino had his lair, but he was even better than Falcone was. He was untouchable, hidden from the cops by layers of bodyguards and bureaucracy. His name was never on the drug shipments, on the murder orders, and even the highest of his cronies weren't lying when they said that they didn't take orders from Valintino. Not even Batman could find actual proof that Valintino was the one behind that massive crime wave that had struck just months before, but everybody knew it was him. He was the God of Crime, as untouchable and undefeatable.

A rise in the gunshots drew Batman's attention, and soon his presence. Hidden in the shadows he watched as a band of murderers - most likely Valintino's – were set aflame by a vixen of the night. He could see where her name had come from just by watching her. She wore a tight body suit of a material that was as thick as Kevlar but blacker and more flexible. Over the suit were plates of midnight blue armor, scales they could be called that stopped several knives without even scuffing. There was a large spine down her front with several spikes that framed her face. On her upper arms and lower legs each had three deadly spikes wrapped around the limb that, with a single swipe she could open a wood plank, and they easily stuck into the brick walls. Similar spikes sprouted from her fingertips and her boots, but these were different. Some hidden device retraced them, or shot out flames. The fire, long after being extinguished shone in her eyes, practically the only visible part of her face. A sleeve connected to the collar of her suit covered the bottom two thirds of her heavily tattooed face and slid perfectly under wild, cropped black hair.

Within minutes of his arrival, she was done, all the murderers burnt or bleeding, but not yet dead. She scaled the wall as easily as if there were known handholds and she wasn't clinging only by eleven thin spikes. He quickly ascended the wall as well with the help of a rusting drain pipe.

She was waiting for him. "Next time I'm going to charge you for a show like that."

He perched on the wall, distance enough between them where neither was within arms' reach, but that could be fixed in a fraction of a second. "Why put on a show?"

She pretended not to mind him, stretching lazily and lifting herself into a handstand. "Why not? You obviously came looking for me, I might as well make the trip worth your while."

"What makes you think I was looking for you?" He watched her carefully, looking for an Achilles Heel. He could find no signs of one.

"Because I've done my homework, Batman." She spat the name like she felt he was beneath her. "I know that you always go after the big fish. So why aren't you scouting out Valintino? Because you're checking out the newest threat."

He stood up, slowly stepping closer. "And should I consider you a threat?"

She flicked a small flame in his direction, warning him back. "Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours."

"We'll see how long that lasts." He swan dived off the roof, gliding away.

Dragon spat where he had been standing, feeling extraordinarily inferior.

* * *

"Where'd that bruise come from?" Bruce and Carm were playing darts after dinner. Carm had rolled up her sleeve in the evening heat.

Without breaking her concentration she hit a perfect bull's-eye. "Mugging."

"You were mugged or you were doing the mugging?" Bruce perched on the back of a couch, coming over as incredibly cocky.

She tackled him, and even though she didn't doubt that if he'd wanted to he would have come out on top, she pinned his arms above his head and sat on his chest. "For your information, mister, I was mugged."

Real concern flashed across his face. "Did they get away with anything?"

Carm bounced, sending a whoosh of breath from his lungs. "Nope, they didn't get two feet before Dragon was on them. She's good. I bet that she could give Batman a nice, long run for his money." She rolled off of him and joined his gaze at the ceiling.

"I doubt it," he scoffed. "Batman's put much more dangerous creeps behind bars before, she's not going to be any different."

Carm struggled internally to keep from snapping a stinging retort. "She's not doing anything wrong! In fact, she's put a nice dent in Valintino's resources."

Bruce pretended not to notice the defensiveness in her voice. Instead he changed the topic. "You know, I never asked you why you were at that party where we met."

Carm sighed and got up. "One of Valintino's lackeys set me up with an invite by leaking that my savings account is pretty hefty. Not that it should mater, right?" She asked for reassurance that it was only out of curiosity that he asked.

I got up and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "Right. He watched her scan the books for a few moments before pulling off a bent paperback. "This one's my favorite."

She looked it over, clearly uninterested. "I read it. Author was a Chauvinist pig."

"No he wasn't. The main character is just…"

"A possessive and compulsive lunatic."

"Territorial. There's absolutely nothing wrong with being territorial."

"Sure, maybe if you're dog. I can't stand it when people let themselves be controlled by stereotypes and shows of violence."

"You're talking about Valintino again?" He was still draped around her shoulders and was gently kissing her neck.

"No, I was actually about Batman. I suppose I could be talking about Dragon too, but she doesn't exactly fit any stereotypes, does she."

"I suppose not." Bruce spun Carm around and his lips quickly found hers. She didn't stop him until his hands headed towards her waist.

She gently pushed him away. "Not tonight Bruce. Besides I need to go home." She left before he could show her out, leaving him desperately wishing that she wasn't so complicated and loving her for it.

* * *

I'm hoping taht Bruce doesn't come off as a Playboy, but I'm going to need some feedback on that. (hint, hint)


	3. Finding out more about you

Quick, update, I know. But this is the last one for a while, I'm going to be in California getting my brains pecked out by relitives and seagulls. Savitri, SHUT UP! IT'S THE SECOND FRIGGIN' CHAPTER, IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE EXCITING! I'm sorry that K.C. isn't Miss Gotham material, but cool characters aren't supposed to be flawless, expecially _**SUPPORTING **_cool characters. I've already given her a bigger part than I planned, but if you don't stop sounding like an English teacher I'll kill her off. Don't think I won't!

Anyway, to the rest of you, thank you for your many hits, even though you don't review (grr) and keep reading. Oh, conversation dominates this chapter, but I hope maybe that it'll get better. Pray to my Muse, Jack the Sexy Beast and perhaps action shall rule once more.

* * *

Finding out more about you

Carm's cell phone began singing. "Hello?"

"Guess who."

"Bruce, I have caller ID. What'd you need?"

"Just wondering what you're doing tonight. I have tickets to-"

"Sorry, work's been hell. I've got another meeting."

"A meeting at night? Again? Who do you work for?" This was the third time in a month that she'd turned him down for "work."

"I'll tell you later. I've got to go."

"Carm, hold –" There was a click and the line went dead.

Carm actually did have work. How do you think she got so filthy rich? She'd been in her line of work for as long as she'd been on her own, and that was actually how she'd met K.C. They actually hadn't met at a funeral; they'd met at a job.

"'Ello?" A gruff voice crackled over the intercom.

"Heya, Marco. It's Carm."

"I know no such Carm."

Carm sighed. Marco was always a stickler for rules. "Carmine Lordly."

"What's yer business?"

"More gardening supplies."

A pause on the other end and then the great iron doors swung open.

Valintino's house was mostly underground, which made it so hard to find. And you couldn't get in unless he knew you personally, otherwise you and whoever let you got shot. That's way the game was played down here, lower than even the reaches of Batman.

A guard appeared and promptly frisked Carm. He, from experience, knew not to get too frisky when he checked for anything that shouldn't be there, but men are men and Carm slugged him just for thinking nasty.

"I'm gunna guess he deserved that." A thick Italian accent wafted down the hall, carried on tobacco smoke and a drunk hooker's giggles.

Carm hated this man more than any word or any combination of words could express. Still she plastered on a fake smile and threw her arms open. "Gerodi!"

He allowed her to step closer, and she got just close enough that they could talk comfortably but she couldn't touch him. No one touched Gerodi Valintino, at least no one that had a legal record and had ever stepped foot in a police station. Carm didn't qualify, but K.C. did. Carm's illegitimate endeavors had gifted her with several court hearings. However, due to her extremely valuable nature, someone always bribed the judge. It wasn't fun, being on both sides of the law, and sometimes she'd been stretched too thin.

"I brought what you asked for. Your garden is gunna look so nice when you're done!" Both knew that the perkiness and garden talk was just a cover for what she'd really brought.

Valintino smiled and nodded. Wrapping his arm around the apparently drunk hooker, he said, "Perfect. Carmine, meet my new gardener, Felecia." You didn't use last names in this house.

The hooker hiccupped. "Follow meh," she slurred and led Carm to the usual room. Steel with a video camera, two chairs and a table, and a bare light bulb. Carm had always hated this room, but she supposed that could mostly be accounted for by the bloodstains no one bothered to clean up. The bloodstains were mostly from bad informants and "gardeners," all of which Valintino went through very quickly. Except for Carm, she'd lasted a while because she could find things that everyone else swore were under lock and key, all without bribing and threatening. She had her ways, most of which she'd learned in Somalia.

Both acts dropped, the two women sat down opposite each other. Carm pulled a CD from her pocket and slid it across the table. "Melvin McCober, age 42, weight 175 pounds, cover occupation dentist. Considered a threat mostly because he's too nosy and he moonlights as a private eye. A very good private eye, but not good enough. He'd be very easy to threaten, he doesn't take bribes, and he's having an affair with his hygienist."

The Gardener nodded and pulled out a check book. "How much were you promised?"

"Two grand. But I want three."

"Two grand it is then." Carm snatched the pen from the Gardener's hand and stuck it about in inch into her forearm.

"Good thing you're left handed." Carm sat back and waited for her check.

The woman grimaced, trying not to cry out. "Three grand, then. How did you know I was left handed?" She signed the check and slipped it to Carm.

Carm answered as she left. "The same way I know your middle name is Genevieve and your father owns a bakery. A very flammable bakery."

Carm shut the door on the flabbergasted Gardener and almost ran into Valintino. "You need to stop terrorizing my employees."

She grinned, all benevolence gone. "As soon as you teach them to cooperate, Gerodi."

"Don't you want your next assignment?"

She slipped around him. "Nah, I'm taking a vacation. But you know where to reach me."

She nodded to the currently-being-frisked-and-not-liking-it-one-bit K.C. as she walked out, knowing that she could trust her best friend to keep tabs on Valintino.

* * *

Bruce was woke up that morning, or rather early afternoon, by a pillow. Not an ordinary pillow, a pillow that was moving. A pillow that was very rapidly moving up and down, only stopping when it hit his head. 

"Gah, nockiroof," he muttered into his mattress, which only brought him a further beating. He snatched the pillow away and tossed it away, too tired to wonder why Alfred was beating him with a pillow.

"Get up, or I'll find something harder than a pillow to beat you with." Alfred's voice was sounding very feminine this morning. Uh-oh, that wasn't Alfred. That was Carm. Suddenly aware of his boxers-only state he snatched the sheets above his head.

Carm stuck several fingers in his ribs, making the new discovery that Bruce was ticklish. Cackling evilly, she jabbed him in the ribs again, making him lose his grip on the sheet which she promptly pulled back. More rib proddings followed until Bruce was forced to secure Carm's feet up several meters the bedpost with a sheet, making her look very much like a prized fish just off the hook.

"Let me down or I'll beat you again!" Carm struggled to pull herself up. She could have very easily done it, but if she did it too easily Bruce was smart enough to get suspicious.

"Not till I get dressed and you tell me what you're doing in my bedroom at eleven in the morning."

"What were _you_ doing in your bedroom at eleven in the _afternoon_?" She gave up the "struggle" for a moment.

"Sleeping. What's your excuse?" Bruce pulled some pants on, painfully aware of Carm's dressed state.

"I felt bad enough for blowing you off last night that I figured we could spend the day together." She tried for an innocent face, but it failed remarkably well.

"Doing what?" Bruce pulled on a shirt as well, to Carm's disappointment.

"My parents just moved out of the city and the house they bought needs painting." Bruce groaned and flopped back onto his bed. "You're going to have to meet them eventually."

"Why over manual labor? I was thinking a dinner might be nice, perhaps go see a play-"

"Bruce, don't try to tell me that when you asked me for a second date you weren't planning on seeing me a lot more than just on 'dates.' If you want this to last even just a little bit longer we're going to have to learn a lot more about each other, starting with our families." Bruce bent down to where her head was swinging and kissed her.

"Fine, we'll go paint their house. But you can't meet my parents." He walked into his closet and tried to find slightly grungy clothes and settled for his least favorite shirt when he couldn't find any.

"Why not!" He gave her a quizzical look.

"Because they're dead."

Carm was silent for a moment. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"You're the only person in Gotham." He walked to the bathroom, tugging the knot that held out Carm as he passed.

Righting herself from the reflexive handstand she fell into, she explained, "We moved to Gotham when I was fourteen, a little bit after the Waynes fell out of the spotlight for a while. I do remember hearing something about …" She paused, not thinking of how to put it lightly.

"My parents' murder?"

"Yeah. I remember hearing a little about it when that man who apparently murdered someone important was shot outside the courthouse a couple years back."

"I remember that day," Bruce paused in his shaving. "I brought a gun to the hearing because I wanted to kill him." He expected a rebuke, a smack in the face, something.

Instead Carm hugged him and whispered, "We all feel like we want to kill somebody at one point in our lives. Criminals are the weak ones who can't resist."

He dropped his razor, returning the embrace and glad she understood. "I couldn't resist, I was beaten to it."

"He got what he deserved and you resisted long enough to prove you're not a criminal. You've got a good heart, Bruce, made all the better by your strength."

"I'm glad you think so," he whispered into her hair. He had never been much of a believer in God, but at that moment he wondered if there was a God to bless him with such an earthly angel.

* * *

I dare you all to guess what K.C. was doing with Valintino. (get your mind out of the gutter, sickos) Now, I'm trying to decide whether I should postpone Carm's "discovery" because i'm rapidly running out of things to fill space with until I get to the real plot. REVIEW OR FACE THE WRATH OF THE BALL-POINT PEN! kudos to anyone who can guess what movie I stole that from : ) 


	4. Secrets

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaacccckkk! Yes, I know that Adamantium isn't a real metal, but Gotham isn't a real city, so I'll take a few liberties. I will dedicate the next chapter to anyone who knows who the villian is going to be, and who **_he _**was.

LoudMouthStar: Hmm, spanish. Good thing I speak it or I'd be insulted.  
Random-Battlecry: Yes, I got your first review. I'm glad that you like Carm, she makes me laugh. Thank you for the feedback unlike **_some people_** Hint hint  
Maid of the Mer: Glad as I am for your muffins, I must say I prefer strudels  
cat: What an odd name. Are perhaps a furry mammal? I like the romance too ; )  
Pirate Gyrl: You really think i have Bruce done right? Yay, I feel special! I though I had him all screwed up...  
Savitri: Why weren't you logged in? Threats obviously work with you, continue please, FOR YOUR SAKE!

It might be a little helpful if I say that Alfred left Carm in the library intentionally, I hope he doesn't come off as a bumbling idiot...

* * *

Secrets

He couldn't stand her. She was Valintino's most prized geisha with the whole world on her platter if she wanted it, but he hated her nonetheless. She'd been all smiles until she realized he didn't trust her, and ever since she'd watched him closer than that friend of hers watched her latest job. Oh yes, he knew they were friends, as did Valintino. But Valintino's mistake was to think that Carmine had no sway over K.C. Stupid man was getting cushy and had done the unthinkable: he trusted. Not only did he trust him, he trusted her. The scheming little bitch, he could tell she wanted something that, something Valintino didn't want to give. She'd get it, but he'd make sure that her price was too high to pay. Oh yes, then he'd be sitting pretty, not that old Italian immigrant who'd had power handed to him without climbing any ladders, not like him.

"Jack, would you like to join us?" K.C. asked only grudgingly, and it was only grudgingly that Jack agreed.

"I'd love to. Where are we going?"

"The Narrows." Jack grimaced and made sure his gun was where it belonged.

* * *

"I'm glad I didn't like this shirt to begin with." Carm had been slightly over zealous with the paint roller.

"Just consider us even, Picasso." It had been vengeance for Bruce dumping a bucket of paint over her shoulders – and head.

"I don't know, I think maroon suits you."

Carm smacked him. "Knock it off or I'll leave you on the side of the road." It was late in the day and Carm was driving her new Mustang.

Carm's cell phone began ringing, and before she could answer it Bruce picked it up. "Carm's phone."

"Who the hell are you?" Carm could hear a thick Italian voice crackling at the other end.

"Bruce Wayne. Who are you?"

"Give me that," Carm snatched the phone away. "Sorry, honey. I'm giving a lift to some nut who claims he's Bruce Wayne."

It wasn't Valintino on the other end, but his brother and body guard. "Well beat it outta him. I wanna know if we're still on for tonight, baby." Bruce visibly paled as he listened to the conversation.

Carm grimaced, appearing to have forgotten Bruce. "Oh, you push to hard, darling," she fawned, "but if you insist I suppose I could clear my schedule. Your house or mine?"

"Mine, I insist. See you, sweet cheeks." There was a click and Carm pulled over to the side of the road.

She hopped out, trying in vain to keep from screaming. She hurled her cell phone with amazing dexterity and speed and trudged after it muttering, "I swear I'll kill that bastard next time he calls me that. I swear I will. I don't care how much he means to –"

"Means to who?" Bruce was behind her.

She sighed and picked up her battered phone. "My boss. He's the head lackey."

Bruce clenched and unclenched his fists. "Carm, we've been dating for a month and a half."

"I know."

"I still don't know what you do for a living, and by all appearances you have another lover."

Carm was silent.

"Carm?" Bruce waved his hand in front of her face. "I'm looking for an answer. I wasn't just talking to myself."

"I'm a mudslinger," she muttered.

Bruce's shoulders sagged. "And what, pray tell, is a mudslinger?"

"I get dirt on people."

Blank look from Bruce.

"The dish? The 411? Blackmail?"

Bruce started laughing. "Good one, you had me going for a second." Carm just sated at him. "You're not kidding, are you?"

"No, Bruce I'm dead serious." Carm, not for the first time, was feeling ashamed for what she did for a living.

"Well, then who's your boss?" Bruce suspected a mob boss.

"For a while I worked black-market-freelance, but then Valintino-"

"WHAT! YOU WORK FOR VALINTINO!"

Carm wiped her face off. "Not happily, mind you, but he pays well and he looks out for those irreplaceable people like me."

"Carm, you're working for a criminal!"

"Bruce, I am a criminal!" That was most certainly the _wrong _thing to say.

He was quiet, looking lost and hurt. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Bruce hung his head and told himself that nothing was perfect, even angels.

"Gee, I wonder. You were shouting your lungs out!"

Bruce was silent, trying not to say some very nasty things.

Carm waited a moment and headed back to the car, eventually followed by Bruce. The rode in silence for awhile before Bruce really put two and two together.

"Wait, if you're irreplaceable then you must know Valintino personally."

"The want to keep my face where it is keeps me from answering that so close to the city."

Bruce heard the hidden confirmation. "Then you could get dirt on _him,_ take it to the DA and Valintino would be out of our hair!"

Carm sadly shook her head. "It's not that easy. Valintino has almost every judge on his payroll, and a lot of them are much more afraid of him then they are me, or anyone else, including Dragon and Batman. The DA is kept under close watch and Valintino has more than a couple moles in every law office, courthouse, and gang within twenty miles of Gotham." Bruce sighed, hopeless once more. Carm didn't like that, and liked even less that it was her fault. "Don't worry, I know a couple of people who are keeping close tabs on him, waiting for him to get too comfy and slip up."

Bruce grinned. "Are you one of those people."

"I can't say; I know better than anybody not to say out loud what you don't want others to find out."

Carm had once again shocked him, and even though she wasn't as spotless as once thought, she still remained his tarnished angel. The ring box in his pocket tugged on his mind, itching to find its way onto a certain finger. Funny, it took him all of two seconds to decide to leave Gotham for seven years, but he'd agonized whether to buy a ring for days, and then agonized even more over which ring to buy, and now he was agonizing over when to give it to her. Strange, how that work so oddly.

* * *

"So what are we doing here, again?" And why is Valintino here? Jack was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

K.C. wasn't enjoying herself anymore. "Pick-up."

"Pick-up? Of what? Something important –"Jack stopped, not wanting his mouth to go faster than his brain.

"Because I'm here?" Valintino laughed. "Yes, Jack, something _very _important. Should I tell you?"

Jack was mentally jumping up and down he wanted the answer so bad. Instead he just shrugged and grinned in the way that K.C. knew meant he was thinking of something very nasty. It was the creepiest smile ever, his eyes gleaming evilly and his lips spreading from ear to ear. It reminded her of Jack Nicholson. "I'd _love _to know."

Valintino grinned as well, but his seemed almost frightened. "Ever heard of Carmine Falcone?"

* * *

Carm jumped back into the car, freshly washed and no longer paint-smattered, and quickly made her way to Wayne manor. Tonight was her birthday, and even though K.C. would be planning some sort of extravagant bash as she rounded yet another birthday cake, Bruce wanted to throw her his own party. Well, not really a party, just a nice dinner, a present, and who knew what else Bruce had in mind.

Suddenly Carm remembered her meeting. She quickly phoned Bruce, who was busy according to Alfred but promised to tell him she'd be late, and then told Valintino's Gardener, that they were meeting now or she'd not take the job. She agreed, being new and thinking that her threat actually held some sway –and remembering Carm's violent nature.

She rushed in, not pausing to get checked, and ran into the room where the Gardener was waiting for her. Panting from her sprint, she sat down in the metal chair.

"Excited?"

"No." Carm's tone said that you'd better not press the matter. "Who is it now?"

"Bruce Wayne." Carm almost fell off the chair.

"W-what do you need?" Please, nothing bad, she prayed, but if Valintino wanted to know about Bruce there was no good news in store.

"Blackmail enough to get Wayne enterprises under control. We need supplies."

Carm stood before she burst into tears. Bruce? Why Bruce? She liked him, he was a good boyfriend. He was loyal, maybe not so innocent, playful, calm, and caring. If she though too much about him she got giddy, and she'd even dreamt about him. She could have said she even loved him, but that meant commitment, and commitment was something that she couldn't afford.

As she pulled up the Wayne Manor she tried to look composed, spending several minutes holding back screams. She didn't cry though, crying was for heartbreak and utter despair. After all, she could feed Valintino false information, but that would only last so long. When he realized that the dirt was fake, she'd loose her job – and most likely her life. She'd just explain to Bruce, and after he was done ranting, Carm was sure that he could find a solution – she hoped.

"Miss Lordly, welcome. Master Wayne had to run an errand, he'll be back momentarily."

Carm instinctively slipped off her sneakers, despite Alfred's many explanations that it wasn't necessary. "Alright. Do you want me to help with the cooking?"

"No thank you, it's all finished, but as usual you are welcome to any room in the house." Carm sighed. She liked Alfred a lot, but he was always so painfully aware of his butler position.

So she chose the library where the piano was. She loved to play, but never got the chance. She liked to sing along too, but that she never told anyone. Her fingers began to pick out a familiar melody, a song she'd labeled as her own theme. She began to hum, and then, forgetting Alfred several rooms away, began to sing, words coming as unbidden as the memories

Her first day back in Gotham after a trek over Asia was no fun. Her new address had been hell to find, and when she finally did find it, she found the elevator was out of commission. Trekking upstairs (fourteen levels) with the heavy old fashion suitcase tucked under her arm she collapsed in front of the door. Normally she wouldn't have been so winded but she was currently battling influenza, the aftermath of the hypothermia she'd gotten in a Tibetan river.

A frazzled head popped out of the doorframe having heard Carm's wheezing. "Gasp! You're not supposed to be here until tomorrow!"

Carm just glared at K.C., here first acknowledgement of her best friend in a decade.

"Well, your room's a bit messy… but nothing we can't clean out," which most certainly meant Carm would be cleaning out her own room.

It _was_ a mess. Apparently K.C. had been using it for storage. At least she'd made a dent in the cleaning that need to be done, though. You could see the bed and most of the dresser was cleaned out. Sighing, Carm unpacked, silently laughing as K.C. screeched in horror at all that had been stuffed in the suitcase. Not one set of extra clothes, instead Carm had brought home a Kevlar suit, a wide variety of what looked like scales, several small bottles of a home-made propane-like substance, an old book written in Korean, a set of adamantium tipped gloves as well as boots, and a battered, much patched pair of socks.

K.C. whispered in awe, "You weren't kidding."

Carm just shook her head on motioned for a little bit of privacy, sending her best friend scurrying out to buy the high quality face paints she was supposed to have bought.

* * *

Alfred paused while setting the table, noting what a lovely voice Miss Lordly had. Of course, he probably should get her out of the library before Master Wayne came back, but after all, if Master Wayne was going to propose, she'd have to find out about the alter-ego bit eventually.

* * *

Still playing the piano, Carm remembered another first day in Gotham. She'd been ten, not fourteen like she'd told Bruce, and incredibly frightened. She remembered sitting on her bed with tears rolling down her face. Suddenly her father had come bursting into the room, crying as well. He sat down on the bed and clutched his daughter, his only heir, close, sobbing uncontrollably. It was extremely demoralizing, watching her father cry like she wanted to.

"Daddy, are you okay?" Her father detached himself and buried his head in his hands, his only response to point toward the master bedroom.

Shaking, Carm moved toward the room, feeling incredibly surreal, like she was watching somebody else scream at the site of her mother's limp body, gun still clutched in the dead hand.

Carm didn't cry in the library, just like she hadn't cried at the funeral. She'd never like her mother, cold, cruel and unloving. She preferred her new stepmother only a year later, the loving understanding lady she'd instantly christened Mom and kept the name to that day. Still, it had been unnerving to see her father collapse like a frightened child, and since she'd never respected him.

Carm stopped, her song finished and sat for a silent moment listening to Alfred setting dinner out and another loud buzz that faded almost as soon as it had started. Discrediting it for the heater or something, Carm noticed that Bruce's paint spattered coat was flung over the couch with a suspicious square bulge in the pocket. Carm knew it wasn't her business, but all the same she stood up, tripping and catching herself on the piano. Her fingers splayed out, striking on odd series of notes. Carm only thought it was an odd when it was accompanied with the sound of a hidden door sliding open behind her.

Staring at the gaping hole that had once been a bookshelf, Carm absolutely _knew _she should not go down that hole. Nevertheless she wrapped her hands in Bruce's ruined coat and slid down on the chain that was supporting something.

That something proved to be an antique elevator. Carm would have been extremely interested in the elevator if she hadn't walked in on Bruce. Or it might have been Batman who had then stolen Bruce's head, sown it on for his own, and then sent his army of flying monkeys to get Dorothy's shoes back.

Now, put yourself in Carm's position. Would you be elated? Who you rush forward and kiss him, proclaiming your undying love for each other? Well, if you'd really put yourself in Carm's position you'd know she hates Batman. So what would you do? You'd pick up the nearest throw-able object and try to knock his block off.

Bruce ducked, extremely surprised, surprised enough that he allowed Carm to land an impressive right hook in his jaw. Catching her leg, which was heading for a very uncomfortable spot, he spun her around and pinned her to the wall. "Hello, darling. May I ask what the punch was for?"

Heartbroken and embarrassed of the tears, Carm could only gasp, rather than yell, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Shocked by the tears, Bruce let her go and pulled off a gauntlet so he could wipe her face. He was hurt that she only pushed his hand away, staring in horror at the mask he'd left on a table. "I was going to, I promise. I was just afraid you'd act like you did."

Carm slumped against the wall and buried her head in her hands. "K.C. was right, I never should have let it get this far. And Valintino…"

"What about Valintino?" Suddenly worried, Bruce pried her hands away from her face, forcing him to look in his eyes. "What about him?"

Carm slammed Bruce in the forehead with her own, dove into the elevator, and ran out of Wayne Manor, crying almost hard enough to keep her from speeding home.

* * *

So, are you sad as I am? Who will be the villian? Will Carm forgive Bruce? Tune in next time I post! 


	5. Oops

Quick update, once again, but you can't keep a good girl down, expecially when she has nothing better to do with her time! And the chapter dedication goes to... **_Pirate Gyrl! _**Congrats on being smart! yes, for thsoe of you who have seen the original Batman, you'd recognise the Jack Nicholson remark, and you'd also remember the vat that makes a lovely debut tonight!  
Pirate Gyrl: Once again, Congrats! Gald you loved that line, I thought it was rather poetic.  
Savitri: Once again not logged in. Who says that teh creation refelct the creator! Just becasue I'm afraid of comitment doesn't mean she has to be! Even though she is, that's not the point! As for wanting more clues, Pirate Gyrl didn't need more, why did you?  
des ires: Umm, what?.  
SirNotAppearingInThisFilm: Monty Python! I love you already! Well, about not knowing her secret... just read on.

Now to those who think that Carm won't forgive Bruce, just try to imagine how much fun I'l have writing the next chapter. I'll dedicate that one to everybody who guesses Carm's reaction when and to where she wakes! (I say everybody because it should be obvious)

* * *

Oops

K.C. had not enjoyed her night. Not in the slightest. Falcone was in no mood to cooperate, half mad and completely ravaged. Valintino had wanted to study him for signs of the drug that had turned Gotham's Crime King into a desolate husk of what had once been grand. It didn't last long, the gunfight. Jack had shot Falcone in the head, losing all he'd worked for so long in one brief moment. He'd be sent on a suicide mission soon, there was no doubt about that. And it didn't help that there was the faint odor of burning flesh wafting from Carm's bedroom.

Flinging open the door, K.C. found a very desperate looking Carm. Tearstained, she sat on the bed, methodically burning the skin off of her forearm with her Dragon gloves. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU DAMN MASOCIST!"

She quickly snatched Carm's gloves and dowsed Carm's' arm in icy water. This had happened before, and after multiple experiences K.C. was excellent at treating burns. Fortunately Carm had only made headway on one of her arms; she'd once done both of her hands, making her useless and depressed until the skin had grown back, scarred and ravaged. Bruce had noticed but never said anything, figuring that if she wanted to talk about it she would.

Carm was in a mental shock. Unfeeling after her sporadic drive home she'd decided that the pain game would be the best way to distract her mind. Carm had always been unpredictable, prone to violence and mood swings in her childhood. Dragon had taken that away from her, balling all her instability into a fighting force that had targeted crime only by mere chance. But every now and then Dragon wasn't enough after some sort of trauma and Carm had picked up old habits again.

Sitting Carm down on the couch, K.C. began wrapping up her arm, disturbed that Carm wasn't even wincing slightly. When she was done she sat next to her stricken friend and rubbed her back, knowing words would come in their own due time.

"He tricked me." Carm continued to stare ahead, silent tears weaving down her face.

"Who?"

"Batman. He made me think he was Bruce, not Batman, and then tricked me into liking him," Carm paused, "almost love him."

It took K.C. a moment to register what Carm had just said.

Carm continued. "And now Valintino wants me to get dirt on Bruce. Should I tell him? Should I tell him that Bruce collects old comic books? Should I tell him Bruce's favorite color is black?" K.C. thought that those were odd questions to worry about, but she didn't interrupt.

Finally Carm shut up, staring at her bandaged arm like it didn't hurt enough. Wanting to take her mind off of things K.C. blurted, "Today's your birthday."

"I know."

"I didn't make you a cake. Lets make one! It'll be an absolute disaster, but it might be fun!"

Carm smiled slightly, an improvement. "You sound like a little kid."

"Little kids have it easy, why not sound like one?" K.C. bustled over to the makeshift kitchen and pulled out a little used recipe book. "How about pound cake? You know, I had the most awful night…"

K.C. blanketed Carm's mind with a gritty and overly-exaggerated tale of the night, and become so involved in her own story that she threw out the egg whites, and mixed the cake mix in with the new egg whites accidentally so that they never stiffened. The kitchen looked like a bag of flour had exploded (which it might have) but the end result was a dilapidated looking cake that was too rich even for K.C. who had an infamous sweet tooth.

Suddenly Carm stood up, spraying flour everywhere. "K.C! You're a genius!"

K.C. looked totally lost and just nodded continually while Carm laid out her half-baked plan.

Jack was quite literally sweating his skin off. Ever since the night of the gunfight when he'd accidentally killed Falcone as well as any hopes of staying number two in Valintino's gang he'd lost quite a few pounds just by worrying. It was undeniable that he'd be "removed" and the only remaining question was when it would happen. He'd gotten the call just moments before, and now he was waiting outside the "Gardening" room.

The clicking of expensive high heels warned him of Felecia's approach. Hastily he straightened his suit and tie, calling his composure back in a sparse moment. With a haughty grin he followed her into the steel room, pretending not to notice the gun hostler bugling under her coat.

She sat down as soon as she began talking. "Gerodi isn't happy with you, but you ain't stupid so you knew that already. So he's got a job for you, and if it goes off without a hitch he might consider your forgiveness."

Jack tipped back in his chair, smiling unnervingly. "Piece of cake. Wada I gotta do?"

"Carmine Lordly just phoned. She's got a new acquisition, but it took her enough of a hassle that she want Gerodi to pick it up himself. Of course we know that ain't gunna fly so you're going down to the Narrows to pick it up for him."

This sounded easy. "What's so dangerous about that?"

"That's where Dragon makes her stomping grounds, as well as Batman. You'd be wise to be careful."

The bum was nothing special, just another one of Gotham's homeless. Yet there was that way she seemed almost to follow Batman out of the corner of her eye, like she was watching him. Pulling her wide brimmed hat down even further, she got up, swaying drunkenly, spitting right under Batman. There was a bit of an ordered way about her disheveled-ness, and the way she moved suggested that she was carrying something she didn't want him to see. That wasn't unusual, there was going to be a gang purchasing down the streets, she was most likely a body guard of some sort.

A moment or so later Dragon came hurling around the corner, leapt from a garbage can to a fire escape to cling to the wall, just above where Batman had concealed himself. She paused, seeming to get her bearings – and dropped. Landing square on his shoulders, she drove him to the ground. She landed several nice punches to his face, unhindered by his mask, and before he could fight back she grabbed his cape and pulled it over his head.

Cursing colorfully, he detangled himself, fully intent on following Dragon. Unfortunately she had left no trace to her direction, and he could not for the life of him decide how she'd gotten off the marooned rooftop.

Dragon had a new toy, a very handy new toy. She'd added a long pouch to the back of her suit, and with the click of a button the pouch opened and "wings" magnetically sealed to her arms, legs, hands, and feet, turning her into a human glider. With another touch of a button the memory cloth (courtesy Lucius Fox of Wayne Enterprises) went springing back into the hidden pouch.

She shouldn't have done that, now he'd follow spend the whole night trying to find her and then her plan would go straight down the flusher. Still, she couldn't resist. Perching where she'd planned with K.C., Dragon virtually disappeared, and the fantastic thing about her suit was that night vision goggles couldn't spot her and it was coated so that to heat detectors she was nothing more than a warm breeze.

Below her the exchange began.

Jack stepped out of the car, looking very impressive in his pinstripe suit. Upon seeing K.C. in place of Carm he sauntered forward. "So, where's Carm?"

Just at that moment Batman sailed up behind Dragon, having finally found her. She held out a gloved hand, motioning for him to be quiet. He felt rather insulted by being snubbed, but nonetheless he listened to the conversation below, tuning in just to hear the last word. His breath caught in his throat, making Dragon smile sadistically.

K.C. just shrugged nonchalantly, perfectly aware that up on the roof Dragon would be going berserk. "She had a previous engagement, so I'm here to deliver. Problem, Jack?"

Jack sneered thinking that it was a problem, he didn't trust K.C. "Not at all. In any case, Valintino couldn't make it either, so it's not like she's missing anything."

Up on the roof Dragon screamed her rage, and before Jack had a second warning she was on him. K.C. knew that was her cue to run, and run she did, hightailing it around the corner. Dragon had Jack pinned to the wall, and was about to snarl several question that would be littered with naughty words. At that moment, however, he drew his gun and tried to shoot her brains out. It didn't work, thanks to Batman and a right hook. Stunned, Dragon dropped Jack, and slowly backed away.

Batman paused only to pick up Jack himself and hurl him over the street. He then headed straight for Dragon who was glowering menacingly. "I didn't ask for your help."

"I wasn't waiting for you to. I have questions for you –"

"And you want them answered," sneered Dragon. "What a pity, because you aren't getting any and thanks to you, that vile man I was busy beating senseless just got away." Indeed, Jack while the two were busy Jack had jumped back into his car and was in the process of escaping.

Batman grimaced and muttered, "Follow me."

Slightly intrigued and having no way of catching up with that car, she did. Batman clicked something in his hand and an engine whirred to life. Hulking in front of her like a gigantic beast was the Batmobile.

Batman nimbly leapt into the driver's seat. "Want a lift?" Dumbfounded, Dragon nodded and clamored into the other side of the car.

Loud would be a good way to describe the Batmobile. Fast would be another good way. It didn't take long for Batman to catch up to Jack, the real problem was getting him to pull over. Banging him constantly (with no visible damage to the Batmobile) they chased him down into the most vile part of the Narrows and cornered him into the factory district. Pinned up against the wall of a military testing plant, Jack jumped out of his car and fumbled with the door.

"Run him over," Dragon muttered through gritted teeth.

Batman was seriously considering it, but Jack finally opened the door and sprinted in. Before he could protest, Dragon jumped out. "Thanks for the lift." And disappeared after Jack.

Something in the way she said it kept him from just leaving her there. Something in the way she sprinted after Jack made him sprint after her. And something in her rather feral sounding scream made him run even faster.

He found the two on a balcony that over looked a great bubbling vat. Dragon was absolutely whaling on Jack. Roundhouse kick to the torso, right hook in the jaw, knee in the groin, flame in the pants, swipe across the back, she was absolutely unmerciful. At that moment it hit Batman that if she'd wanted to, not even an army could have kept her from killing him in that ally several minutes ago. He paused briefly to wonder what had stopped her, but didn't stop long. If he let her she'd kill Jack, so Batman grabbed her hand as it flew up to strike Jack again.

He was about to say something along the lines of a retribution, but Jack took his opportunity and held his gun to Dragon's temple. She grimaced and mouthed, "Smooth move, X-lax."

"Alright, Bat, if you don't want me blowing her brains out you're gunna turn around and leave us to our business." Batman guessed that wouldn't be safe. Still, he turned around.

At that moment several things happened at once. First Batman kicked Dragon in the center of the armored spine that ran down her suit, sending her sprawling backwards. Realizing that she was going to go over the edge she used the momentum and arched into a back flip.

Second, Jack fired his gun. The bullet missed Dragon's temple only by the good grace of God and instead cut millimeters above Dragon's eyebrow, blood freely flowing into her eyes.

Third, Dragon grabbed Jack, bringing him hurling back with her, and dangling just feet above the boiling vat of goo. Batman lunged forward, leaving a brief vacuum of space where he'd been standing, and grabbing her arm, began to pull her up. Jack, in blind panic began firing at anything that moved, and hit the Dragon's wrist. Fortunately for her, her wrist, unlike her forehead, was well protected by her gloves, and her only reaction was a slight spasm and quick burst of flame due to being hit in the tendon. Unfortunately for Jack, that spasm made her lose her grip for a fraction of a second, spilling him into the vat.

In shock, Dragon slumped against Batman and pulled one of her gloves off, revealing scarred hands that made Batman suck in his breath. As if wiping off sweat she moped her forehead to better get a look at the boiling vat. She muttered, "I didn't mean to do it, Bruce, I didn't mean to do it." And she blacked out.

* * *

Cackle Once again, imagine how much fun teh next chapie should be to write! REVIEW OR MY FRIEND THE BOILING VAT WILL PAY YOU A VISIT!


	6. I hate you

I return from Pergatory! I was grounded from the computer for 4 DAYS! Never fear, I'm back! Now this chapter gets a little sappy towards the end, but I begin to show that all of Carm's instabilities are really just excuses she's made up to avoid history repeating itself. And You'll notice the last scene from BB, sorry that i didn't get it quite right, and a scene from the original.This sin't my favorite chapie, and I'm still not toally satisfied, but review and tell me what you think!  
_**Nightshade0020**_: Geeze, You've got a whole ton of Batman fics out! I'm going to take a stab in the dark and guess you're a fan. Have you read the comics? I haven't, I'm too busy. Well, Cram being part of The League of Shadows would be an interesting twist, but I don't like stories where the two MCs are so similar they could be clones. I get a little into her past toward the end though : )  
_**Savitri:**_ Would you friggin log in! I don't particullary care about my sp, thank u very muche  
_**Maid of the Mer**_: I'm beginning to fear muffins...  
_**Pirate Gyrl**_: Thanks for so much feedback! I'm glad you like that cape-wedgie, just shows you how I think. Well, Bruce finds out, and since you enjoyed my previous sappy conversations, You'll have plenty to gnaw on when you're done!

* * *

I hate you

They found the oddly intact body that wasn't supposed to be there in the vat that they'd been draining because it wasn't supposed to be there either. So they did what you do with everything in Gotham that isn't supposed to be there: they threw it in the river., which is where the doctor found it. He was in need of a cadaver to practice a technique on, so instead of paying for one he went to the river, a virtual bank of bodies. Plus, the river practically picked them out for him. Only fresh bodies would work with the new procedure, and only fresh bodies floated. In fact, the body he'd found, though grotesquely disfigured, was so fresh it was still breathing. Worried, he'd brought the almost-dead body back to his make-shift medical lab and tried to counteract the distortion of the face. However, he wasn't a real doctor, and there was little he could do.

"Oh dear." Those eyes had just opened, disturbingly orange.

"What?" Snapped the voice. "What do I look like?"

Unable to describe his patient, the doctor handed him a mirror. Jack was sure for a moment that he was looking at a portrait of something inhuman. But no, when he blinked, so did it. When he opened his mouth in horror, so did it. That _thing _looking back at him was albino white, pasty and unearthly, with a shock of green hair. But the worst part was his face. His lips were twisted into an unending smile, that no matter how hard he or the doctor tried would not unclench.

Jack stared at the reflection, and finally satisfied that there was no saving his features, threw the mirror away. He sat in the chair, and laughed. He laughed when he got up, he laughed when he shook the doctor's hand, and he laughed when he shot his rescuer.

* * *

K.C. had burst quite unceremoniously into Wayne manor about an hour ago, an hour which she'd divided between yelling at Lucius Fox (who had been to medical school and therefore cleaned up her best friend), yelling at Bruce (who was only halfway out of the Batsuit when she'd come in), pacing, and yelling at Carm (who was currently comatose and laid out in a guest bedroom). It would have been a scene worthy of a soap opera, what with the doctor, the boyfriend, and the butler all hovering around the limp body, if K.C. hadn't been bursting in at random intervals screaming things totally off topic. 

It was after K.C. had come in shouting, "CARM, WAKE UP, I STILL HAVE TO BEAT YOU OVER THE HEAD FOR THAT TIME WHEN YOU USED MY PURPLE BLOUSE TO MOP UP COFFEE! COFFEE STAINS, YOU MORON!" Lucius had decided that a nice heavy dose of sedatives might do K.C. some good that Carm began to regain consciousness. Of course no one noticed, because Lucius was preparing a heavy dose of what he'd labeled "Knock-you-on-your-ass," Alfred was taking an aspirin, and Bruce was chasing K.C. to vent quite a bit of anger as well as catch her so she could be shut up.

Carm never saw any of this rather comical scene, however because of the bandage across her eyes. The bullet had grazed so close to her eyes that the bandage that kept her from bleeding also kept her from seeing as well. She took a moment, lying utterly rigid, using her remaining senses to assess the situation. She was quite obviously still in the Dragon suit, though all of the scales had been removed, as well as her boots and gloves, and was laying on a rather comfortable set of sheets and a rather stiff mattress. Her first thought was an infirmary, but if she really was in a hospital she wouldn't still be in her suit. Besides, it didn't smell like the massed produced clean of a hospital, it smelled more like soap and mint. Uh-oh, soap and mint, that rang a bell that ought not have ever been rung again.

She was momentarily comforted by K.C. leaping unto the bed where she was currently sitting on and screeching, "It's about damn time you woke up! I swear, I was about to go mad with waiting. You know, I've probably lost quite a bit of weight because of you, what with the worrying and the pacing and the running."

Carm tried to raise her eyebrows, but it didn't quite work because of the excruciating pain the movement brought. " Good, you're alright. That reminds me, how did you get home?"

"Ran about halfway, but then Alfred picked me up and brought me here. But that's not all the running I did. Your boyfriend seems to have gotten over you. He's been chasing me for the better part of twenty minutes." Carm heard the satisfying clunk as something hit K.C. in the head. She probably would have enjoyed it more if her heart hadn't stopped.

"We're in Wayne Manor, aren't we?" Carm whispered.

"Wholly out of luck, might I add." Carm heard Alfred's voice from the corner.

Carm felt a warm and masculine hand on her shoulder. She turned around –

- and kneed Bruce in the stomach. She satisfactorily felt his thud as he fell on the floor, completely off guard. "What a funny way to say thank you," commented Alfred.

Carm tugged at the bandage, to the great dismay of Lucius, and ripped it off. She'd been stitched up, and any excessive eye movement would be painful, but that didn't stop Carm from glaring at Bruce. If looks could kill…

Through clenched teeth, Carm whispered, "K.C. we're leaving." She pulled her boots on, along with a good majority of her scales, and headed for the door. She almost ran into Bruce.

Catching the swing she'd made at his head he pushed her back onto the bed. "Not yet, you're not. We need to talk." As if rehearsed, everybody left the room. Carm tried to leave with them, but Bruce kept her firmly planted on the bed.

When Bruce was satisfied that she couldn't get out until he unlocked the door, he let her stand, still on the bed himself. "So, would you rather I address you as Carm or Dragon?"

She pulled on her gloves and began flicking the flames off and on. "Whatever you prefer, _Batman._" Once again, if looks could kill.

Bruce rolled his shoulders and briefly closed his eyes, exerting an tremendous amount of self-control. At that moment Carm seemed to decide the conversation was dead and leapt out the window. They were only two stories up, so Bruce had no problem following her. She pretended not to notice he was following her until he was close enough to get with a backwards kick. He grabbed her foot and spun; she landed like she'd been doing pushups, her face centimeters from the ground. Bruce gently placed a foot on her spine before she had a chance to get up.

"Carmine, you're making this harder than it needs to be." She attempted to set his pants on fire. He leapt away, allowing her rise.

"What do you want, Bruce?" She gently fingered her stitches, praying that they would work.

"I just want to know why you… What happened in the Batcave?" He appeared blasé, but after several years of watching men like him in Asia, she knew he was ready to give chase should she run.

"What, did you expect me to be happy that you were keeping things from me?" Flames several inches long sprouted from her fingers. Almost as if she didn't notice them she relaxed her hands, momentarily calming the fire.

"That's not the pot calling the kettle black at all. Need I remind you that you lied about not only your job but your duel identities as well?" Bruce raised his eyebrows, the only hint of his agitation.

"I never lied to you, because you never asked." Carm began grinding her teeth.

"Omitting the truth is the equivalent thing. How can you begrudge me that when you did the same?" Bruce took a step forward, sending Carm back two. "I think, maybe, that there's something else going on that you're not telling me. I suppose I should used to it by now."

Carm looked like a chastised little kid, and stepped meekly forward. She wrapped her arms around Bruce and whispered, "Is it not good enough that I hate you?" Carm sprung back and slashed Bruce across the face.

She pulled her mask up and ran down the drive, her gliding cloth unfolding as she ran until she lifted up and disappeared. From the window K.C. muttered, "Oh, I am _not _going to sleep well tonight."

* * *

K.C. was right; she wouldn't sleep well that night. In fact, she wouldn't sleep at all. Proving that the was no end to Carm's posttraumatic oddities, she came home to find all the windows open and every electronic thing in the apartment on. Carm was perched on the back of the couch, fresh from the shower. She looked like she'd been in the middle of dressing. She was wearing a pair of jeans, a bra, and her bathrobe. The TV was tuned to a emergency news broadcast. They were covering a double homicide in the Narrows. Carm was watching while her face flicked from anger to horror to misery and back to anger. 

"Details are uncertain, but both of the deceased seem to have been brutally maimed before death, faces twisted into ghastly smiles. Wait, I'm getting something… it seems that victims are Gerodi Valintino and his brother Adolfo," buzzed the old TV.

Carm cackled and clicked the remote. "Well, our job's done, isn't it? Just you watch, the whole damn gang will collapse and I can go back to Tibet."

K.C. looked pensive. "That's just too easy. Somebody will take control, and if we did our homework it'll collapse, but we can't be sure until it happens. Wait, what do you mean 'Tibet?'"

Carm pulled on a t-shirt. "Just what I said, I can go back to Tibet. I'll bet Spunks misses me. In fact, I bet they'd all be glad to have me back." She was making reference to the band of thieves she'd fallen in with during her tour of Asia.

"Oh that's great, defeat one gang to join another. You lousy hypocrite. Just admit it, you're running away again."

"I have nothing to run away from. I did what you asked me to do, K.C., it's not fair to pile more on the job when I'm done."

"Nothing to run from! What about the Batman/Bruce thing? You never had any reason to hate him in the first place."

"Bruce? Yes I do; he lied to me." Carm was dodging the question.

"No, Batman. You never had any sound reason to hate him."

K.C. noticed the tears a little too late. Carm whirled around. "Yes I do! He had Gotham handed to him, he didn't have to give what I did, and what I'm still giving! This monster of mine ruined my life, why should he be happy when I'm not?"

"Carm, you're begrudging him his sanity, a gift that leaves you a little more each day."

Carm cackled. "So what? So what if I hate him for being sane? Or at least saner than I am. What sort of crackpot goes around dressed like a bat!" Carm slammed her door, rattling something glass on the other side.

* * *

He had enough on his plate without the searchlight with a bat on it going on. He knocked on it, his only greeting was, "Nice." 

Gordon turned around. "Couldn't find any mob bosses." He paused, unclear how to go on. Finally he blurted, "People still think you're a threat. After all, you're wearing a mask."

"So?" Batman had other things to think about right now.

"What about escalation?"

"What?"

Gordon shrugged. "Cops get semi-automatics, so the criminals get fully automatics. We get Kevlar body armor, they get armor-piercing bullets. Now, you got a mask. Take this guy last week... armed robbery, double homicide... Got a taste for theatrics, like you... Leaves a calling card." He handed over and evidence bag with a playing card inside, peaking Batman's interest.

On the other side was a joker. "I'll look into it." He turned to leave, his mind already spinning with ideas.

Gordon spoke once more. "I never got to say thank you."

Batman had his answer ready. "And you'll never have to." He leapt off the rooftop and toward a place where he knew he wasn't welcome.

* * *

K.C. screeched and dropped her bag of potato chips when he walked through the window. Putting a hand on her heart she muttered, "You could've knocked. I don't think she's in the mood to talk right now." 

"Have you been watching the news?"

K.C. sucked in her cheeks, looking meditative. "You're talking about those two murders a couple of hours ago."

He nodded. K.C. picked up her cell phone and dialed the apartment. The phone began ringing, and from the safety of her bedroom K.C. hollered, "Carm pick it up!"

"Where's the phone?" Carm's voice permeated into the room. Bruce (he'd taken off the cowl and closed the blinds) smiled at the oddity of the situation.

"On the couch." Carm came stumbling out and froze. Appearing calm she walked past Bruce, picked up the phone, and dialed 911.

"911 response line, how may I help you?"

"Hello, I have reason to believe I'm being stalked by the man that just broke into my apartment."

"Do you know his name, ma'am?"

Bruce looked pleadingly at Carm.

"Yeah, you might know him. It's Batman."

The operator sighed. "Ma'am do you know that you are the fourth person this week to have called in saying that, and the previous three turned out to be a rapist and serial killers? Would you like to continue your report?"

Carm threw the phone in the sink after hanging up. Continuing to ignore Bruce, she grabbed an old fashioned suitcase from the closet and threw a Kevlar suit, a wide variety of what looked like scales, several small bottles of a home-made propane-like substance, an old book written in Korean, a set of adamantium tipped gloves as well as boots, and a battered, much patched pair of socks.

Extremely wearied, Bruce asked, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you, and Gotham, and everything else that ever got screwed up in my life."

"Fine, but can it wait? We need to sort this out, especially if you're going to help me."

"No, Bruce, it can't wait. I'm sorry that you've got a new psycho on the loose, I'm sorry I over reacted to everything, I'm sorry that I'll never forgive you, and I'm sorry you never got the chance to propose. But K.C. is right. I'm running away from my problems, and it feels a lot better than you'd think."

Bruce took a step back, shocked. "How'd you know I was going to propose?"

"It's my job to find out what people don't want to tell me."

"Would you have said yes?"

Carm paused. "Before I hated you? Yes, I would have."

Bruce gave up. He sank to the floor and tried to concentrate on what he was here for. But he couldn't; she would have said yes, if he'd just been faster, if only he hadn't waited.

Carm look sympathetically at him. "Well, maybe I'm exaggerating. I don't hate _you, _I hate Batman."

Bruce looked up, looking very pathetic. "Why?"

Carm clenched her fists. "Because you didn't give what I gave, you didn't loose anything! You disappeared for seven years and came back, everything just the way you left it! Where's the justice in this world? I lost a mother, a home, a husband, and because of me ten good men lay rotting in the bottom of the Machu River! When I came back I could hardly stand from sickness, I didn't have anything but what's in this suitcase and the clothes I was wearing, and I was unemployed. I'm a thief, a mudslinger, and by default a murderer. I wasted a year of my life in prison, and just when I put all of that behind me you came in and screwed everything up AGAIN!"

Bruce wiped his eyes and whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you lost so much, but I did my fair share of losing too. And you know what I regret the most? That I lost you to your own insecurities." He stood up, his face inches from Carm's. "But I'm not sorry that I still love you." He kissed her open mouth softly, and before she could react he pulled on his cowl and jumped out the window.

* * *

yeah sappy! Alright,REVIEW OR I SHALL CALL MY MONKEYS OF DOOM UPON YOU! 


	7. Devastation

Geeze, when it rains it pours! I pumped this one out in about an hour, which is why it's so short. i almost cried when I wrote this one and then I remembered it's only a fic, and a bad fic at that! So, maybe a little sappy, but not as bad as the last chapter. And I'm proud of how I captured the conversations between Alfred and Bruce. Other than that...  
_**Pirate Gyrl:**_ well, I'm glad you like the "good kind of sappy." Carm's past is being revealed in small hints, I never intend to falt out tell her story. However, if I finish this fic, I might add a bonus chapter about Carm's worst day ever.  
_Savitri_: Umm, what does my last chapter of my VH fic being sappy have to do with this one?  
_**Nightshade0020:**_ Tell your aunt I said congrats. Glad you like those frustraiting cliff hangers, even though I didn't think I was using them. Waiting for my fic? I feel special!  
_**Maid of the Mer:**_ Hah! So you CAN type more than _Cool. Muffin! Update soon. Maid of the Mer_ I knew it!

Now, here comes my twist! Can you handle it?

* * *

Devastation

K.C. paused, unsure if she'd heard her cell phone go off. Muttering a curse, she sprinted back to her room, leaving her latest boyfriend elbow deep in shaving cream. Panting she answered her phone, unaware that shaving cream can damage electronics. "Hello?"

"K.C.? This is Jack."

K.C. froze. "Jack? As in Jack Napier? As in the Jack Napier who fell into a vat of chemical waste?"

He just laughed. "Yes, the same one."

"Why aren't you dead?" K.C. was too shocked for manners.

Laughter again. "Guess they just don't make chemical waste like they used to, baby." Why was he being nice? He hated her. "So, you haven't been coming to work lately."

Uh-oh, that's what he wanted. "Valintino's dead. I assumed that I was out of a job."

"No, of course not, but you will be if you don't show up tomorrow!" Click, and the conversation was over.

K.C. paused, took a deep breath, and shouted, "CARMINE ANGELA ALEXANDRIA ZORRA LORDLY!" A few seconds later Carm came skidding into the room, still in a bathrobe with soap running down her legs.

"What? Why'd you call me from the shower? No bleeding wounds, not leaking bodily fluids, and you're skull isn't smashed in; at least not yet."

K.C. took another deep breath. "JackNapierisn'tdeadandhewasntsmetocometoworkandIbethewantsmedeadandthiscan'tbegoodandon'tknowwhatthismeansHELPME!"

Sadly, Carm understood the whole thing. "WHAT? WHY ISN'T HE DEAD?"

K.C. just shook her head. "I don't know. What do I do? He'll kill me, I know he will."

Carm paced back and forth. Finally she said, "You'll go to work, and I'll come with. If anything happens, you'll be okay." Carm put her hand on K.C.'s shoulder in a rare show affection. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

* * *

After twelve solid hours of tracking the Joker and then studying any clues he could, Bruce's head hurt. He could have beaten his cranium against a wall and gotten better results than he had procured. Ever a savior, Alfred came in with an aspirin and a glass of water.

Bruce flopped on floor. "It's no good, Alfred, he just hasn't left me enough of a trail. I don't know anything about him or what he's going to do next."

Alfred pulled Bruce's cell phone from a shelf. "But I know someone who does, Master Wayne. Listen to this."

Alfred pressed several buttons and K.C.'s voice came into Bruce's ear. "Bruce? This K.C. Listen, I know that you're after the Joker right now, and I don't know if this will do you any good, but I think you should know anyway. Jack Napier, the one who fell into the vat several nights ago, survived. He's taken control of Valintino's gang, and I'm guessing he was the one who dispatched Gerodi and his brother. Oh, Carm doesn't know I called you, so only tell her if you have to. Or if I don't survive." The was a click and the message was done.

Bruce leaped up to the computer and began typing rapidly. Alfred watched before asking, "So what do you make of that message."

Not looking away from the screen, Bruce replied, "I think that the Joker and Napier are connected somehow, but I'm not sure." He paused. "What did she mean, 'if I don't survive?'"

"I don't know. There's several possibilities. Napier could dislike her and seek her out for the purpose of her murder, he could dislike Miss Lordly and she might be collateral damage, she might be unsure of her position in the gang, or she might be afraid that Miss Lordly's alter ego will bring in retaliation from Napier."

Bruce nodded. "All of which are very possible. I suppose I could trail Carm…"

Alfred shook his head. "Miss Lordly is not the one you should be worried about, Master Wayne. As she has demonstrated before, she can look after herself. It's is Miss K.C. you should be worried about. Besides, if I may comment on your personal life, further irritating Miss Lordly with unnecessary surveillance is not the best way of winning her forgiveness."

Bruce paused in his typing. "I don't think Carm is likely to forgive me anytime soon, Alfred."

"If I may ask, sir, what did you do to set off Miss Lordly?"

"Scared her. She's never told me how, but she was… emotionally traumatized in the past, and the potential for being hurt again may have made her look for a reason to push away. Batman was all the reason she needed." Bruce fingered the ring box in his pocket. He should return it, or at least put it away, but he couldn't.

* * *

K.C. fingered the gun in her pocket. "This won't work, Carm."

"Stop being such a doomster, we're not wanting anything to work, we're just… enforcing our own protection." Carm pulled in, and walked through the front door with such a menacing look at the doorman that he neglected to frisk them.

"Carmine! I was hoping you'd come!" Something came striding toward them. It was human in shape, but the face was all wrong. It was pasty white and twisted. Seriously twisted.

K.C. gasped, but Carm just laughed. Surprisingly, Jack joined her. When she'd mastered her giggles she gasped, "Joker, huh? Well, you certainly look the part." She warmly shook his hand. "Long time no see, Jack."

"Please, I prefer Joker now. I'm glad you came, I've got a new job for you." He motioned towards the Gardening room. K.C. looked pleadingly at Carm, but her friend had no choice.

She mouthed, "I'll be right back," and left.

K.C. was having difficulty breathing when the Joker began to talk. "Like my facelift?"

"You ought to sue," snarled K.C.

"Jealous, you say? You want one to match, you say? Not a problem." The last thing K.C. saw was a stream of yellow liquid rushing toward her.

* * *

"I've sunk so low," Carm muttered as she clamored into the Batcave. She should've been doing something else, but everything else reminded her of K.C. Burning her flesh? No, K.C. always dressed the burns. Wrecking the apartment? No, K.C. always cleaned up. So instead she scuffed her knees as she climbed, trying to stifle the gasps.

He wasn't there when she finally reached her destination, but the Batmobile was gone, and he'd have to come back eventually. After an hour or so she heard a roar and several bright lights lit up the cave. The doors of the Batmobile opened and Batman stuck his head out.

He pulled off the cowl, locked the Batmobile, and was tugging off his gauntlets before he heard her sobbing. He froze and looked around. "Carm? What-? What's wrong?"

Carm just shook her head and didn't try to pulled back when he wrapped her in a warm embrace. He detached long enough to pull off the Batsuit and then gentle lifted her up and carried her shaking form to the library. She seemed to have forgotten that she hated him and buried her head in his shoulder and cried. He just let her, selfishly thinking how good she felt, even the growing wet spot on her shoulder.

Finally the waterworks ran out and she pulled back. Alfred, who by that time had come up with a blanket and mug of something warm, handed her the drink. Gratefully she sipped and pulled the blanket closer.

"She's gone," Carm whispered, "and it's all my fault. I shouldn't have made her go, I should have let her stay. But now she's gone."

Bruce pulled her close again. "K.C. told me about Napier. Is he the one who killed her."

Carm sipped her drink. "No, he's not Napier anymore. He's the Joker."

Tenderness momentarily put on hold Bruce asked, "What happened."

Alfred gave Bruce a warning look, but Carm began talking immediately. "The Joker wanted her to come to work, so I went with her. When we got there he met us at the door, and I could tell K.C. was terrified. He's different now, he's albino white, his hair is green, and that smile… His face his so twisted, he can't stop smiling. Well, he said he had a job for me, and I didn't want to leave her but I had to, or it'd look suspicious. Well, when I got down to the room he had a bunch of thugs waiting. I guess they were suppose to kill me to, and I knew that I'd made a terrible mistake. I got as soon as I could, but I was too late. When I ran back up to where I left them, he was just watching her die. She… she looked like him, all pasty and her face was all twisted into a grimace. She was dead by the time I got to the body, it's a big hall. I would have killed him with my own bare hands, but he had too many guards. They would have killed me if the Joker had told them to, but they just threw me out in the street and then I came here." She looked up, a fire in her eyes. "I want him to pay, Bruce, I want him to suffer, and I'll do anything to make sure he never sees sunlight again."

Bruce nodded. "Of course, we'll do our best."

Regaining her sense of reality after telling her story Carm asked, "We?"

"Me, Alfred, -" She sat bolt upright, glaring. He just held up a hand. "- and you."

She leaned back against him as Alfred left the room with her empty mug. "Thank you, Bruce."

He whispered into her hair, "Do you still hate me?" But she was fast asleep.

* * *

So, does she still hate him? Are you SURE? And for my own benift, tell me how you think the story ends! REVIEW OR SUFFER THE WRATH OF MY GIRAFFE! oh, rhyme! 


	8. Not so practical Jokes

I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk! and ahting school, might I add. Being a freshman sucks. And I have homework on a weekend. Grrr. So, I began reading the Batman Graphic novels, and I'm afriad I'm hooked. Now, a note about Joker: he's a mix between the fat-jack-nicholson version and the anorexicly-thin-and-tall-comics version. Not that that helps any. Oh, Nightshade is MIA! grr, review soon, or else! I only have a four person readerdom, I need those reviews!  
_**Savitri**_: I told you I was going to kill K.C., I don't know what all the fuss is for. And you spelled reincarnate wrong.  
_**Maid of the Mer**_: Wow. I'm shocked, you can write more! Who says random information is a waste of time? How about some random information about  
my fic?  
**_Pirate Gyrl_**: Yes, I do hope they nail Joker too. In fact, not to spoil, but I know the end result of the story since I'm writng it! Oh, I do love control! I'm suprised  
you didn't ask about Carm's history again. Well, I've got more!

* * *

Not so practical Jokes

"And so, Ladies and Gentlemen, I am, in short, proposing a partnership, the likes of which this city has never seen." The audience in front of the Joker was amassed of crime lords and mob bosses, all gruff and wary.

One particularly stubborn woman asked, "So, all of our mobs made into one big mob? Sounds good in words, _Joker_," She openly mocked him, "but there's too many glitches. Who, for one, runs the whole damn operation, huh? Where do we keep our HQ? What businesses do we interact with? I don't like it; not yet."

The Joker nodded, a dangerous look in his eyes. "It'll be run by all of us, a board of such, presided over by me-" that brought several protests "-because I have control of the largest gang. Our HQ will be in the penthouse suite in Wayne Hotel, and our businesses?" He paused for dramatic effect. "Everything, Ladies and Gentlemen, everything. In six months, we'll have Gotham on a leash, every penny will be coming in and out of our pockets, and the rest of the grand United States will follow."

Falcone's burly replacement waved a hand for the floor. "Six months? How do you intend to do that?"

The Joker nodded in respect, mostly for the man's gang. "A good question. Do you remember not long ago when terrorists brought our beloved Narrows to it's knees will a gaseous toxin that blew everything frighteningly out of proportion?" Nods from everyone, they'd all suffered losses. "They planned to destroy Gotham, I plan to revitalize it with the same methods. I've had may skin analyzed for the chemical that made me the gorgeous beauty I am before you," nervous laughter broke out, "and have mass produced it."

"So?"

The Joker's patience was thinning. "So we hold the city for ransom. After several million poisoned deaths, leaving the victims ravaged, the mayor will undoubtedly be impeached and we make sure that we have all the candidates in our pockets. No hard feat, because at that point a mixture of fear, greed, and money will have us unstoppable."

A fantastic sell, so fantastic that he got a standing ovation; except for one elderly man on the Joker's left. Quietly he spoke, but everyone could hear his raspy voice. "What about Batman? And for that, what about Dragon?"

Dead silence before the Joker spoke. "What about them?"

The old man steepled his fingers pensively. "We don't know who they are; not yet. Thus far both have proved incorruptible to a maddening degree. They may prove somewhat of an irritation should they get wind of this, and what with Dragon's fascination with your mob, she most certainly will. I suggest you proceed with caution, and until I am convinced that you have the situation under control, I won't be joining this endeavor of yours.

The Joker seemed irritated. "I assure you, I have them taken care of, but it's wise to never show all your cards."

The old man cackled and motioned for everyone to leave. The Joker was inexpressibly incensed that they did; wordlessly like obedient children. "Seems we're alone, _Jack_. You can tell me now."

The Joker fiddled with the flower pinned to his suit. "Alright, if you want to know so bad." He leaned in close. "Batman is just like any other knight; he's got a whopping weakness."

The old man raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"Dragons." The Joker squeezed his cufflink and a spray of yellow liquid shot into the man's face.

* * *

"I'm worried about her, Alfred." Bruce fiddled with his tie after K.C.'s funeral. Throughout the whole procession Carm hadn't shed one tear, an extreme change for her. 

After she had fallen asleep in the library Bruce had let her stay the night in his old bedroom, conveniently across the hall. Between bouts of sleep she'd cried the whole night, trying to convince her own inner demons that it wasn't her fault her best friend was dead. The day after that she'd cleaned out the whole apartment, except for what she was going to sell. All of K.C.'s possessions were sent to various family members, other than small mementos and valuable Carm claimed for herself. By the end of that afternoon she'd turned her home over to a realtor and begun home hunting. In the meantime she was staying in Wayne Manor, and still crying herself to sleep at night. She'd arranged the funeral in record time, not giving the doctors time to analyze the corpse and find a cure, and busied herself to no end. It seemed to Bruce she hadn't stopped for one moment.

"She's just grieving, Master Wayne. Do you remember how you were when you're parents died?" Alfred watched Carm scurry up the front steps, already pulling off her pumps.

"I remember crying a lot." Bruce really didn't want to remember that.

"After that, if memory serves, you spent quite a bit of time surrounding yourself in activities in order to keep your mind from your parents. She is merely doing the same thing." Together they entered Wayne Manor, Alfred silencing his reminder as Carm, already changed, rushed down the staircase and slid into kitchen with her arms full of clay pots.

Intrigued, Bruce followed her. She pulled Alfred's largest pot onto the stove and began pouring different liquids in and out of the pot. The whole thing smelled vile. "What is this?"

Carm looked up and returned to her mixture. "Dracoignis. Dragonfire in Latin. Basically it's one hell of a chemical reaction. After being distilled several times it's incredibly flammable. If heated past the temperature of seventy-six degrees it ignites as soon as it hits open air and doesn't stop burning until there's nothing left to burn."

Bruce held a hand up to his nose. "It reeks. This wouldn't happen to be the stuff that's in the Dragon gloves, is it?"

"And boots, actually."

"How does it work?" Bruce fingered the gloves, which were next to the pot.

"Easy. Those three spikes on the forearm have cooled vials of this stuff and all feed into one pipe that follows the contours of my hand to the fingertips. The harder I flex my fingers the more liquid comes out, running past a heated wire, and burning anything that gets in the way. The boots are the same, but because I have to flex my ankles to make the flames work I don't use them often."

Bruce whistled. "So, what happens when you climb?"

"Well, the liquid comes out but because there's no air, all that's left is a slight residue. Only design flaw, as it has such a unique chemical makeup, is that if you manage to find some, it gets traced right back to my apartment or Korea."

Bruce watched as she set a large contraption of tubes over the pot. "Why Korea?"

Carm finished setting the distillation device up and turned to him. "Did you learn to be Batman in America?"

Wondering what that had to do with anything Bruce warily answered, "No, I didn't."

She lifted herself onto the counter, all the while looking at him. "Me neither."

Bruce was silent.

She looked at him. "There's a lot of things I never told you, not just about being Dragon, and I'm sure it goes both way. But I don't want to know now, in rue of past experience."

"But I do. I began -" Carm put a hand over his mouth, very gently.

"I don't want to know, Bruce." She was silent, watching her concoction boil. Finally, she began speaking again. "I never told you I know Korean, Japanese, Mandarin Chinese, and Mongolian, did I?"

Bruce whistled again. "That's… impressive. Who taught you?"

Carm grinned in reminiscence. "Ryu. It means Dragon in Japanese, which is why I chose Dragon for my… monster, I suppose."

"He must have been important. Who was he?"

Carm eyes watered up, to Bruce's dread, and he expected something about K.C. "My best friend, my confidant, my lover, and my husband."

Bruce was shocked. "You were married?"

Carm nodded, a sad smile on her face. "I told you that before, but I don't expect you to remember. Actually, I technically still am because he was never legally declared dead, even though we all saw him die."

"What happened?" Bruce wiped away a tear.

"I made a mistake." He was smart enough not to continue the conversation.

* * *

"Can you hear me?" Dragon winced as Batman's voice crackled in her ear and adjusted the volume. It was a no-brainer for both parties to keep their alliance secret, Batman continuing to stalk the Joker between breaking up petty crimes and Dragon haunting the Narrows and giving hell to the gangs. Still, she'd been given a microphone as thin as cloth on her mask (courtesy Fox at Wayne Enterprises) and a small ear piece that more than anything looked like a growth of skin rather than a speaker. 

That wasn't all they'd done to her suit. Fox had a field day with Dracoignis, improving it and taking most of the guess work out of the recipe. Her fuel tanks were larger, needing less insulating, her "wings" were less conspicuous looking when folded, and her face-painted tattoos were now airbrushed to avoid smudging. Not to mention that she virtually had a computer built into her suit, monitoring her different body rates, including stress level and blood loss. Pretty nifty, overall.

"Yes, I can hear you. Painfully so, in fact. What do you need?" She was doing nothing in particular, other than following a hearse that contained the late leader of a "gentleman" gang. Oxymoron of the century.

"I think I found the Joker." Batman's voice was deep and harsh, nothing like Bruce's.

"Let me guess, you were playing solitaire and you forgot to take out that card. I'm not stupid, if you'd found him you wouldn't be telling me, you'd be killing him." She glided to a fire escape and her "wings" jumped into their pouch.

"I'm not a murderer. Or a liar, I found him, I just can't get him." Dragon heard the steely note.

"Why? Hold on a sec." She jumped down, most likely snapping the spine of the rapist's shoulders she landed on. His buddy was quickly dispatched with slash across the neck. Criminals had shown her no mercy, why should she show it to them? Compassion was weakness, no matter how much Batman stuck by his morals. Morals were weakness too.

"Done? He's surrounded. I'll need your help; I'm right by Wayne Hotel."

She purred, "Aww, do you miss me? I'll you had to do was say so."

Batman hung up. After the grieving was done, Dragon had become ruthless and callous while Carm had become driven and more alive than ever. But he knew that under both exteriors she was shriveling up, convinced that she could do only wrong despite her best efforts to counteract her seeming curse.

She was there quickly, landing softly behind him and putting her hands around his eyes. "Guess who?"

He didn't have time to answer even if he had planned to. A pistol fired and he felt a smack between his shoulder blades. Dragon whirled around, landing with a sick crunch on the man's chest. Another shot went off, this time grazing just above her head.

They were surrounded by mobsters, all of which were heavily armed. Dragon slipped between two, setting them afire while Batman knocked a good many unconscious. Twisting and turning, them never touched each other, but it was still an odd and incapacitating dance to watch. She swung her legs under a mobster while he would leap over her and land on another, followed shortly by him ducking a flame to set someone on fire. On and on, punch, duck, throw, catch, punch again, it was seamless, almost as if they'd practiced.

Dragon turned around and found a gun trained at her head. The owner of the hand that held the gun was white. Albino white. "Hmm, déjà vu! So what do you say Bat, leave and I won't kill her? Hey, déjà vu again!" He cackled, pushing the gun further into Dragon's temple.

"Napier." Batman stepped forward and was inches away from Dragon.

The Joker cocked the gun. "Ah ah, Simon said leave, not come forward.

Batman raised a hand.

Joker's finger tightened on the trigger.

Dragon spoke at her own risk. "Boys, as much as a girl loves being fought over by two such sexy men as yourselves, I'd really like it if you didn't."

Joker's eyes flicked to her face for a moment then back to Batman. "Sorry, sweet cheeks, unless your boyfriend here steps off, the gun ain't going nowhere."

Dragon laughed. "Boyfriend? Say who?"

To the great surprise of both she spun around and grabbed Batman's cowl by the ears and pulled his face to where she could look him in the eyes. One hand dropped and slid behind his back. Joker was thinking he should shoot her merely on principal, but he saw Batman was as shocked as he was and Dragon's claws were digging into the Batsuit. Batman mouthed a question, but Dragon's only response was to slam her forehead into his. Dazed, he put up little fight as her claws directed him to the edge of the roof and pushed him off.

Joker's eyes were wider than usual as she wiped her hands and sidled up to the Joker. Her microphone was on, giving Batman some consolation for being disposed of. "So, where were we, sexy?"

Joker chuckled and reached for her mask. She snatched his wrist, drawing small beads of blood. "I don't think so."

Joker was suddenly aware of a very sharp pain in his stomach. He looked down to find Dragon digging her hands into his flesh, and boy did it hurt. So, in a weak retaliation attempt, he punched her.

She reeled away, but both hands dug deeper into his fleshy tissue. "You need to work out, Joker."

He was loosing consciousness, but he had enough sense of mind to hold the gun to her head again. She grabbed it, one hand leaving his bloodied front. Galvanized, he produced another firearm, this time pointed at her chest. She grinned realizing he was beginning to fade and grabbed the gun as well. Joker sank to his knees, and Dragon began to dig at his throat.

Slowly she clawed up his face. "Sorry now, sexy? Sorry for what you did? Sorry for who you killed?"

He managed to gasp, "I didn't – do – anything to – you."

She pulled him up by the face. " That's what you think. You killed someone close to me, and you know what I'm going to do as thanks? I'm going to kill you, slowly and painfully, the same way I died."

Dragon seemed to have forgotten she had her microphone one, because Batman swung himself back onto the roof, pinning both of her arms behind her back before she could do anything. Joker crawled way, slowly and painfully while pressing a button on his suit.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" she screamed, struggling to get loose.

"You can't kill him; it won't solve anything." His voice hissed in her ear.

"YES IT WILL! LET ME GO!" By that time Joker's backup had arrived, machineguns roaring as loud as their choppers.

As captivated as she was by the thought of revenge, she realized that with those odds it was best to retreat today and fight tomorrow. Batman released her, pausing to see what she would do before he left. She screamed and set his cape aflame, stranding him on the roof top while she soared away.

* * *

Carm came tramping up from the library, screaming incoherently as she shed her suit. Alfred sighed, swallowed an aspirin, and followed her. He came in to find her clothed only in the tight t-shirt and shorts she wore under her suit. Seeing him (and still ranting) she hopped into the bathroom and pulled on some decent clothes. When she came back half of her tattoos had been washed off, giving her face an odd, half finished look. She without ceremony she threw her possessions into her suitcase. That completed, she sat against the wall and stared blankly ahead. 

Not at all like a butler, Alfred sat down across from her. "You look terrible." He handed her a wet towel he'd had sense enough to claim from the bathroom before sitting.

She chuckled half-heartedly at his joke. "You should see the other guy."

"Who was the guy?" Alfred spoke in a detached manor that matched Carm's.

"The Joker. I had him in the palm of my hand," she held out a hand and then closed it into a fist, "and I could have been free, he could have gotten his recompense, but… Damn him, Alfred!"

Alfred nodded wisely. "The Joker or Master Wayne?"

She smiled dejectedly. "You pick up quick. Batman. Damn him and his morals, he ruined it all." She looked up, eyes glossy with tears. "I hate him, Alfred, but I love him at the same time. I hate him! I hate him and I love him. I love him so much, but I hate him! How can he be so… frustrating? He gives me everything I want, tangible or not, but the thing I want most he takes away! How can he do that? How can he make me hate him and love him?" She grabbed her hair in her anger.

Alfred watched her writhe for a moment before answering with the attitude of a psychiatrist analyzing a fictitious character's psyche. "Perhaps because he loves so much he thinks he knows what is best for you. Or perhaps he is content to leave you to your own devices unless those devices may cause harm to you. Perhaps he is afraid that in gaining your revenge you will kill a part of you as well. And as Batman, he might also be afraid that as a murderer he would have to bring you to justice. After all, he would be no better than the corrupt judges if he were to let personal feelings stand in the way of his duty." Carm just gasped back sobs.

Bruce was in the hall, listening to the whole thing.

* * *

Ah, I smell trouble! So, what will happen next? Do tell in your BLEEDING REVIEW! 


	9. Losing what you never had

Did you think I'd for gotton you guys? Of course not! This thing has been sitting on my back since I started it, and now it's off! That's right. I'M DONE! Last chapters are my weak point, and I haven't even edited it yet, so sorry if it's a let down. :Sniff: this is the last time I get to do this!

_**Pirate Gyrl**_: I'm glad you think I captured the spirit of the comics. Guess what? I got one of the originals! It makes me happy...  
_**MadisonReloaded:**_ I love new readers! Glad you noticed how messed up Carm is... because she is. Why is it that everybody thinks this should be a movie?  
**_Maid of the Mer_**: Thanks for the suggestions... but no. I actually might write a Dick Greyson/OC fic... but I'm not sure.  
_**Savitri**_: WHY MUST YOU WRITE IN ALL CAPS?  
_**Nightshade0020**_: MIA is missing in Action and a readerdom is howmany people regularly read your fic. Glad you like, I've been meaning to check out your stuff but I'm always busy.  
_**fluffyllama**_: New reader welcome! Why is it that everyone thinks I'm smart.

Alright, enjoy, because it's the last you'll get. I'm so sad, I almost cried when writting this, but not because _I'm_sad. Figure it out!

* * *

Losing what you never had

Carm woke from her little pity-party with the shock of realizing Bruce was in the doorway. The look he gave her made her already shriveled soul cry for her mommy, but Dragon picked her up and carried her out the door, sending the nastiest subliminal message ever. Bruce was crying inside too; he'd ascertained that there was no hope for Carm and wanted to crawl into a dark hole and wait for death, but Batman caught him while he fell and trekked after the Dragon-supported Carm.

"You amaze me." Bruce called, letting Batman use his voice.

Dragon bid Carm to sneer at him. "I do what I can."

"How can you live like this?" Bruce caught up to her and wrenched the suitcase out of her hands and chucked it over the banister.

"Easily. I live so that I can fight, I fight so I can live. Of course a sniveling coward like yourself wouldn't know about that, would they?" Dragon snarled through Carm's mouth.

Bruce spun her around, his eyes on fire and screamed, "You're letting Dragon control you, and she's no kind person, Carm! You talk about how I let my morals keep me from true justice, but you're letting your selfishness keep you blinded from it! Your need to avenge K.C. is driving you of a cliff, and you're jumping with it! Step back, realize what you're doing before we lose you!"

Dragon stepped back, and Carm screamed on her own. "I'm doing what I need to, Bruce! What's your excuse? You say justice isn't death to murders like him? What a load of bull! He's insane, and the faster I can get you out of my way the better off we'll all be!"

Bruce snarled. "Listen to yourself! He's insane? YOU'RE insane! But I'm not going out trying to kill you! You need to discern Carm from Dragon, you need to keep them separate, or it'll kill you!"

"Keep them separate? Just like you? Can you honestly tell me that if it were a choice between Bruce's emotions and Batman's duty you'd choose Batman? Batman may be the vehicle, but Bruce is the driver of everything he does! When you say "we" you mean 'I.' Practice what you preach and keep Bruce out of Batman and let me be!"

"No."

Carm turned and went down the stairs. "You are weak."

Bruce watched pathetically as she walked down the stairs. To keep from crying out him clenched his fist in his pockets, his right hand closing on a thing that made his heart stop. It was a small square box. His whole body shuddered and he pitched the box as if it were on fire.

By some odd twist of fate, the box bounced behind Carm's descending head and into the den where it hit the power button on the TV. Carm paused, and instead of making for the door, went into the den. Bruce sat down on the steps and watched as her shadow on the wall watched the news for several moments – and collapsed on the floor. Forgetting his anger and hate he rushed down the stairs to make sure she was alright and froze as soon as he stepped in the room. Trembling on the floor, Carm watched in horror at the scene played before her eyes.

The evening had started with an average homicide investigation. But as police entered the building in question, they had all dropped dead, their faces twisted into strange parodies of themselves. It had been an apartment building with 24 levels, and every soul inside was dead. Sitting on the building of the massacre was the Joker, laughing his ass off. He'd killed the camera crew quickly, and everyone else on the site was either following suit or running like mad. He'd left the cameraman alive and was now speaking to the public.

"Good evening, Gotham! Welcome to my first masterpiece, more soon to follow! But of course, not all of Gotham is art loving, I'm sure. Even the Louvre has its set of haters. If you don't want your Gotham to become a grand museum of art, I'd suggest voting for the mayor's impeachment… don't worry, we'll take care of the rest.

"Oh, and one more thing. Batman, your girlfriend did a hell of job on me, so tell sweet cheeks to get her fine little booty over to Wayne Hotel if she doesn't want YOU to be number two in my art collection. And Carmine Lordly, I've got a job for you."

The broadcast was finished when he shot the cameraman. Carm shook her head, and Bruce was terrified to notice the grin she was wearing. Looking up, she glanced at the square box Bruce had thrown. She laughed and slipped it in her pocket. Walking past Bruce she spat on him and muttered, "I told you so."

Bruce gave up, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it. He screamed for Gotham, he screamed for what the Joker had done, but most of all he screamed for Carm. She'd been one big mistake. He never should have given her a ride that day, then he never would have asked her name, he never would have invited her for dinner, he never would have loved her, Joker never would have been created, and he never would have been so miserable.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep there on the floor of the den, because that was where he was when Alfred woke him. "Master Wayne, the manager of your hotel is on the phone, and he says you'd best get down there fast. 

Fifteen minutes later Bruce stepped out of his car, staring at the burnt husk of what had been the penthouse suite. "What the hell happened here?"

Gordon stepped up to him, holding out his hand to shake. It took Bruce a moment to remember that he didn't know this man. "I'm Jim Gordon, I'm in charge of the investigation, Mr. Wayne. So far we suspect arson, but we've yet to discover who."

Bruce ran his hands through his hair. "Was anyone staying up there?"

"Yup, couple of crime lords. We managed to arrest them, but to be honest I doubt they'll be convicted of anything. They were all part of a gang alliance, headed up by the Joker. Maybe you've heard of him?"

"How could I not have? Is he the main suspect?" But before Bruce's question could be answered an officer whispered something to Gordon, who nodded grimly.

Looking at Bruce, he motioned for him to follow before he walked away. "They just found the security feed from the time of the fire and a little before. Since it's your hotel I'm assuming you want to see it."

"Of course I do." But he didn't really. He already knew it was Joker who did it, did he need any more proof than the TV broadcast he'd watched earlier?

"Here we go, Mr. Wayne." And they popped the tape in. Bruce was shocked at what he saw. First it was average hotel activity, mixed with several gangs meetings, but they just skipped past all that. Then Joker appeared, waved at the camera, and left, no doubt for his killing spree. That was when they let the feed play at normal speed. Just as he left a head peeked into the window – a good two hundred feet up. The face wasn't recognizable, but the rest certainly was. It was Dragon. With skill only credited to expert thieves, she cut a large hole in the glass and began to feed in a large bag. She quickly surveyed the room, taking note of the structure supports with an expert eye. Then she coated the ceiling, walls, and furniture in a liquid that Bruce assumed to be Dracoignis. Then she coated the floor with another substance, this one much gooier than the first, so much so that she perched on the desk. Inspecting her work, she contemplatively stroked her chin, bringing down the sleeve of fabric that covered her face. Bruce was grateful they couldn't see her face, but his stomach filled with dread as she located the camera and grinned right into it before setting the whole place ablaze and leaving with a parting rude gesture.

"Shit," was all Bruce could say as he cradled his head in his hands. He'd dug himself a nice deep hole, hadn't he?

"Can you identify her?" Gordon asked.

Bruce wanted with all his heart to say no, he had no idea who she was, but he couldn't do that, no matter how much he loved her. "Yes, I can."

Gordon waited for him to elaborate when he didn't he said, "And she is…"

Bruce sighed. "Carmine Alexia Lordly. She and I… we just broke up."

Gordon nodded knowingly. "Well, she didn't take it lightly, did she? Let me guess, she's violent, high maintenance, and she kept secrets from you."

Bruce nodded. "Something like that."

"Did you have _any _idea she was Dragon?"

Bruce nodded, unable to speak any more.

* * *

She perched on the highest cathedral spire in Gotham, contemplating what she was going to do next. She had replaced the sleeve, merely out of habit, so when he came up behind her, even if she had turned around he wouldn't have learned anything. 

"Wow, you're crazy, you know that? I'm mean, burning down a whole penthouse just 'cause I pissed you off? Now that's holding a grudge. By the way, what did I do to piss off such a beauty as yourself?"

She whirled around, knocking him off his spire and flattening him against the floor.

"You took everything I ever had."

* * *

"I've got a meeting in five minutes, I trust you boys can continue the investigation without me?" Bruce snatched up his coat and was already in the car before he got his answer. Just as he pulled into Wayne Manor he caught sight of the Batsignal in his rearview mirror. 

He dashed into the Batcave, Alfred at his heels while he explained things. "Carm's totally lost it. She just set fire to my penthouse suite, and I've got a feeling that her next target went survive as well as Wayne Hotel did."

Alfred sat at the computer, rapidly pressing buttons. "Do you know why she set it on fire, Master Wayne?"

"To get back at someone." Bruce slid quickly into the Batsuit.

"Who?"

Bruce paused. "Either me or Joker. Please, lord, let it be him."

* * *

Joker hit the balcony below with a thud, opening the back of his head. Rolling up he grinned. "Play nice, sweetie." 

Dragon snarled and elbowed him in the gut. Then she slashed across his stomach. Then she kneed him in the face. Then she pulled him up by the hair. Groping, he clutched at her face, opening four parallel stripes on her cheek. Down slid the mask, and the Joker gasped as he recognized the face.

"C-Carmine Lordly? What the hell are you doing in the Dragon suit!" He stumbled back, the back of his knees hitting the protective railing on the old cathedral's edge.

She laughed and set the wooden rail on fire, holding his face in the flames.

* * *

Gordon stood on the by the signal, tapping his watch to make sure it was still working. 

"Make it quick, Gordon, I've got business to attend to."

Gordon tuned around, trying to appear as if that hadn't unnerved him. "I assume you heard that Wayne Hotel was partially burned?" Batman nodded. "Well, we know who did it."

"Dragon, I know already."

"You don't miss much."

"Was that all?"

"We think her motivation may be extremely personal, because she showed no qualms about removing her mask, identifying herself as-"

"Carmine Lordly. My personal opinion, she's getting revenge on the Joker for a past wrong. He used to be a co-worker of hers, but when he came to power, he whacked the wrong people."

"But Dragon's been around before the Joker."

"Right, she refrained from mixing the personal with business before this."

"Well, no prizes for guessing what made that change."

But Batman was gone, heading for the Gotham Baroque Theater Church, where Dragon's signal was pulsing on a computer in the Batcave.

* * *

Dragon laughed out loud, while Carm sat in the corner with the morbid curiosity of a horror film fan. "As one sadist to another, I've got to tell you this is the most fun I've had since you killed K.C.!" 

Joker could only whimper, "Please, I didn't mean to do it."

Dragon kept smiling. "Yes, you did. Be with you in a second, darling."

Batman took a step closer. "Stop it Carm."

"No, I don't think I will."

He took another step and then –

CRACK!

The burning railing broke. Joker fell face forward, plummeting toward the thick cement below. Screaming, he was still on fire as Dragon pushed him down. She clutched his charred lapel grinning in his face. In a final desperate attempt to rid himself of her he kicked out, meeting her stomach just so. She fell away, just in time. He hit the brick of a ledge and his body gave a sickening crunch.

Batman was stunned, but jumped as soon as his wits were back. It was too late, though. He watched Joker hit the outcropping and roll over with the force. Carm twisted her body to look up. It was a strange thing he witnessed. Dragon smiled and then an almost physical transformation took place. Dragon left and the smile was all Carm.

And then she hit the cement.

There was the thud of her spine compacting and a small gasp. Batman almost forgot to slow his own decent. She was hardly breathing, but at least she was alive. "Carm! Carm, are you alright."

She blinked. It took an eternity for her to speak. "Hey, Bruce. Did Dragon get him?"

He could only nod for the tears.

"I thought so." She gasped for breath. "So, guess my work here is done."

Bruce clutched her tight. "No it's not. It's not and you know it."

There were a million things she could have said, but she only had time for, "I'm sorry I lied to you so much, Bruce. But I wasn't lying about one thing. I wasn't lying when I said I loved you."

Bruce kissed her vigorously, as if he could breathe his own life back into her. For one joyful moment, she kissed back, just as hard. But just for a moment.

She went limp. Limp, right in his arms.

By the time the police showed up, Batman was gone. All that was left was Carmine Lordly's dead body… and the almost dead body of the Joker.

* * *

Short of his parents funeral, hers was the most painful he'd ever been to. He wasn't even ashamed of the tears that came as freely as they did when he was a child. In his hand he clutched the ring without the box. He didn't know where the box was. He'd found the ring on her finger in the morgue. So she wasn't lying when she said she loved him. 

"Neither was I."

* * *

:Sob: It's over! WWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! Review or I'll cry on you!

Oh, I'm thinking of writing another Batman fic, focusing more on Dick Greyson. Summary's below, tell me if I should write it. And what should her name be?

_They found her bruised and broken and bleeding, but all around her were raving lunitics. They hadn't been before... Before what? She's got a special talent to make peopleher and feeland see things that aren't there. Dick is smitten, but Bruce is wary? Living in Wayne Manor, she posed athreat before she figured it out, now what?_

Keep in touch, guys! I'll miss you!


End file.
